The Claws of the Cat
by LLunaStorta
Summary: Who really is the woman Nick Barkley married? All the family members are in the story, including Eugene, along with some characters from the series and original characters.
1. Chapter 1

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 1**

A playful smile danced on Sharon's face, as Heath made his entrance into the parlor and cleared his throat to draw her attention. He was wearing a blue suit, perfectly matching those of his brothers, they all would wear in occasion of Audra's wedding. It brought out his eyes. She knew he was nervous for the part he would have at the ceremony.

"Come closer, love, let me see you." The girl couldn't help a little laugh as he awkwardly made two more steps into the room. She knew how he was feeling, she herself would feel more comfortable in her usual clothes. Heath stiffened and frowned, waiting for a response. Sharon took her time, sizing Heath from head to toe much to his increasing discomfort. Heath was undoubtedly the most handsome man she had ever known. "It suits you nicely," she declared with conviction. She rose from her chair, her bridesmaid dress swishing, and closed the distance between them.

"You sure?" Heath asked, raising an eyebrow doubtfully. She adjusted his lapel and the white flower that had been pinned on it, thinking she'd rather have him in his shirt, vest and tan slacks.

"Oh, I'm sure," she replied with the shy little smile he cherished. "Your sister will be proud of you," she said with warm confidence.

One side of Heath's mouth curled in his typical smile, melting her heart immediately. "Thank you, my girl," he said softly, cupping the side of her face with his hand, brushing her cheekbone with his thumb.

Sharon sighed and closed her eyes, savoring his touch. Many months had passed since their first kiss at the Lughnasa. It had been a long year for the Barkley family, they had been through so much. But now, everything seemed to have settled. She was happy. She had never been as happy, and she blessed the day her uncle Jim had decided to come to this valley. How well she remembered that day a few years ago. She wasn't yet in her twenties, a poor but proud Irish girl who wouldn't take anything from anyone. To say that her first encounter with the Barkleys hadn't gone too well was a euphemism.

" _KILLKENNY FARMS", the sign proudly announced. Uncle Jim was eagerly hammering to nail it to the pole, another nail ready in his mouth, when this blond woman came galloping on her thoroughbred horse, her hair floating in the wind. She was tall in the saddle, her back straight._

" _To greet us, maybe", granny guessed, bless her heart. But she was wrong._

 _She arrived with her high horse very close to Uncle Jim, startling him. "What are you doing, knocking down our fence?" She asked indignantly, managing to put together a question and an accusation at the same time while assailing him._

" _Whoa there, Miss Buffalo Bill. There wasn't any gate," Uncle Jim explained reasonably._

" _Well, of course, there isn't a gate. You're on the Barkley Ranch and you're trespassing!" The blond fury spat out, her fury growing, her horse hovering over my poor uncle._

 _We were astonished, watching the scene and not knowing what to do. The Barkley Ranch?_

" _Don't try to stomp me with that beast of yours!" My uncle took the bridles, trying to avoid a contact with the horse's hooves. "Look, why don't we talk this over like gentlemen?" He offered._

 _But no, she wasn't inclined to talk. "There is nothing to talk about except get those wagons off our land, and I mean it!" she yelled._

" _Your land, is it? Would you like to take a look at a map I've got that says it isn't?" Uncle Jim tried to reason, still holding the bridles, fighting not to be trampled._

" _Map? This is the Barkley Ranch!" She yelled yet louder, yet angrier._

" _I don't want to argue with you, but from now on, this is the Kilkenny Farms. Now, get out." Uncle Jim insisted._

 _The girl managed to free her horse from Uncle Jim's grasp, whipping him._

" _You're not gonna put that sign up on our fence," she declared with no hesitation._

" _Won't I, now? Just watch," Uncle Jim communicated to the cheeky girl, going back to his task of nailing the sign._

" _I'm telling you for the last time," the girl threatened. "This is Barkley land and I AM AUDRA BARKLEY." She couldn't have said it more condescendingly, if she had said: "I AM QUEEN VICTORIA"._

" _Oh, no. I thought you were Miss Buffalo Bill," Uncle Jim said jokingly, feigning delusion. "Look, I'm deaf on one ear, and I don't believe in wasting time talking to little girls," he added turning around to hammer on the second nail._

 _It was then that the blond fury went wild. She attacked my uncle with her nasty little whip and hit him repeatedly, making him lose his balance and fall on the ground. At that point, even my granny, the most gentle old lady in the world, lost her patience._

" _Oh, stop it now! Look what she's doing to Jimmy!" she said to Grandpa, who didn't know what to do._

 _Taking advantage of the fact my uncle was on the ground, AUDRA BARKLEY sent his horse against our sign, that fell on the ground, breaking into two parts. Stubbornly, Uncle Jim picked up the upper part, where now just the word "Kilkenny" was partially visible and went nailing it back to the pole._

 _But AUDRA BRARLKEY had still something to demonstrate and, again, attacked my uncle, hitting him hard with her riding whip again and again, from on top her horse who whined and reared._

" _Oh, now!" Granny exclaimed._

" _I'm a peaceful man, Miss Buffalo Bill," my uncle offered, like he still thought it was possible to negotiate with her. But she was deaf and blinded by her rage. She passed again and tore off what was left of the sign from the pole._

" _Now, we bought this land, and we intend to occupy it," my uncle still tried to explain. "This time I'm not fooling with you," he added, as she went again against him, her whip up in the air, ready to strike. Uncle Jim raised his hands in front of his face, trying to defend himself. But she started hitting him again._

 _Then finally, Uncle Jim lost his patience. "Take your hands off of me!" the girl protested as my uncle, who's a big man, took her by her waist and dragged her down from the saddle._

Sharon chuckled, visualizing the good, well-deserved spanking that had followed.

Later, they would have had a taste of Nick Barkley's way of handling a situation, coming to shoo them away like crows from a field with his men and their guns.

Nick and Audra Barkley. She had never imagined they'd both become so dear to her heart in such a short time.

"Ahem." They turned their heads to see Nick, who was grinning widely. "Sharon, Heath. You two ready?" the tall dark-haired Barkley asked, retrieving from his vest pocket the watch Melanie had given him for his birthday, and studied it. It had become as much a part of him as his spurs.

"Of course we're ready, brother, we were just waiting for you," Heath said taking Sharon's hand and walking with her toward his older sibling. "Just put that watch away, will you? It makes me nervous."

"Now, Heath, someone has to keep track of time."

"Yeah, sure," Heath said rolling his eyes in feigned exasperation.

From the top of the stairs, Victoria watched the three young people walk toward the front door laughing and talking until they were outside, the door was shut and she couldn't hear their cheerful voices anymore.

She was so glad Nick was finally recovering from all the grief that woman had brought into his life. But now, her larger-than-life son was himself again. He was now officially engaged with Melanie De Land, all the issues between them apparently resolved. They both had suffered for what had happened with Melanie's father and the River Monarch nasty business, and a separation had been inevitable. Then, Nick's life had taken an all different path. Thankfully, Nick's brief marriage was in the past, a discolored, ragged and almost forgotten bad dream. Melanie's father was dead, and the couple's love story was thriving. Victoria had a notion that the girl was much more than what she let surface. Underneath those clear eyes and dark red hair, ashes were smoldering intensely.

 _Time will tell_. _Now concentrate, Victoria._ "This is going to be a great day," she declared, repeating out loud what she had been saying to herself for days, her voice echoing in the empty house, sounding false to her own ears. Audra was marrying today. Jarrod had a son of his own. Soon, each one of her children who still lived there would leave the nest. And she would be alone. Alone, with Tom's portrait as her only company.

 _Enough, Victoria. This is your only daughter's wedding. This is the day Audra's dream will come true._ Trying to focus solely on the imminent ceremony she and her daughter had so eagerly organized and awaited for months, she headed toward the stairs. _And yours? Your dreams? What will happen to your dreams? What to you, and to the man you love?_

Victoria shook her head. No, this wasn't the time, this wasn't the day. She straightened her back and put a brand new smile on her face as she regally descended the grand staircase of the Barkley mansion.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 2**

 _One year before_

It was impossible not to notice her, a tall, uncommonly beautiful woman with almond shaped, mesmerizing turquoise eyes. Her light blue morning dress brought out the generous figure of her body, a ribbon of the same color in her honey blonde, gently waving hair.

As her employer was very busy around her client, Melanie quickly ran through, cataloged and stored the samples of the last cloths that had arrived that very morning from San Francisco. Mrs. Owles owned the only boutique in Stockton and Melanie had been working for her since her father's death.

"Give my best to the Family, Mrs. Barkley," Idanell chirped cheerfully, grateful for the good amount of money the woman had just spent.

 _Mrs. Barkley? Who… Maybe Jarrod?_

"I will, thank you," the woman replied kindly, walking gracefully through the door, as the older woman was keeping it open for her, a stack of packages of different sizes and shapes in her hands.

"You count on that dress being ready by Thursday," Idanell added diligently.

"Thursday will be fine," _Mrs. Barkley_ added with a charming smile, before stepping outside.

"Mrs. Barkley?" Melanie asked rather casually, her hands expertly flying among the shelves, tiptoeing to reach the top one.

"Oh, darling, haven't you heard? That is Nick Barkley's wife."

Melanie's heart sunk. _Nick Barkley's wife._

To know Nick Barkley was to love him, and Melanie had secretly loved him her whole life since childhood. For years, he hadn't even known she existed. Melanie had just patiently waited, watching his many loves come and pass, year after year, knowing one day her moment would come. And the moment did come. Things were actually getting serious between them. Until the dreadful day Jock McLean had swooped down on the River Monarch gold like a hawk on its prey, killed her father, destroyed all her dreams.

Like a castaway, she had walked barefoot, wounded, through the wrecks of the old boat, and of her life. Eventually, she had found the shore. But nothing, nothing had ever been the same since.

 _That day, she had swallowed her pride and had gone to him, to admit her fault, to ask for his forgiveness._

 _The front door of the Barkley mansion opened and Silas, the family old faithful servant, appeared. "I'd like to see Mr. Nick, Silas," she asked timidly._

 _Silas turned his head, talking to someone who was in the foyer. "Miss Melanie, Nick," he announced rather uncharacteristically, skipping the "Mr." he usually called him. Nick had once confided that he happened to switch back to their Christian names, when the Barkley children were sick or injured. And, injured Nick was, a white bandage around his forehead, where her father's friends' bullet had grazed him. She just wanted to fly to him, fall into his arms, hold him, make sure he was alright. But, the cold expression of surprise on his face told her better. He wasn't expecting to see her, and certainly he didn't want her in his arms. A lump instantly formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard._

" _May I come in?" Melanie spoke to him directly, bypassing Mrs. Barkley, who was closer._

" _Nick just nodded, not speaking a word in reply. Melanie made a few steps inside the house, but Victoria Barkley was standing there, protectively, a motherly barrier between her and Nick._

" _Mrs. Barkley," Melanie greeted her, her hands clasped together, as she moved them nervously to quell her nerves. The white-headed woman acknowledged her greeting with a nod, her cold eyes challenging her to just make a move, just a move to harm her son._

" _Nick…" Melanie's voice failed her when she pronounced his name, sobs welling up in her throat, choking her._

" _Hello," he just said._

" _I… I would like to speak to you, Nick," she stuttered, repeating his name, in a vain attempt of reminding him of their intimacy._ Don't you recognize me, Nick? It's me, it's Melanie!

" _I'll get some coffee," Victoria Barkley said dryly, guessing their need to be alone._

" _Thank you, Mrs. Barkley," Melanie said, sincerely grateful of the older woman's discretion, as she disappeared beyond the golden curtains._

" _If you've come to see about the state of my health…" Nick began bitterly._

" _Nick…" Melanie breathed disconsolately, coming one step closer as she yet again called his name._

"… _and if your friends are interested…"_

" _Nick," she insisted, more incisively this time, interrupting his non-senses. "I'm here because you mean very much to me…" She hesitated at the incredulity displayed all over his face._

" _I've hated doing what I've had to do…" It felt like a losing battle trying to speak, breathe, and fight the tears all at the same time. But she would tell what she'd come to tell. The next words would be the hardest to speak. "Avoiding you… lying… but there seemed to be no other way." She inhaled deeply, gathering her strength. "Nick, you were right, my father was involved. Your father will be cleared."_

 _Nick frowned. "You sure?" he asked._

 _Melanie nodded. "I'm sure. I wanted you to hear this from me."_

" _Does Jock know?"_

 _Melanie nodded again, repeatedly for more emphasis. "Father offered Lieutenant McLean a trade: the return of the gold in exchange for amnesty for his friends." She cocked her head slightly, struggling to find the words. "My father's meeting with Mr.… With McLean, now, to… take him to the gold." She shrugged. "That's… That's all I came to say. Good-bye, Nick."_

 _Melanie turned on her heels and made two quick steps toward the front door. She had made it so far, she had done what she had come to do and now she just needed to get out of there. Out, far from his accusing eyes. Out, far from his condemnation of her, of her father. Far from his not understanding. All she needed was to be out of there and disappear._

" _Melanie!"_

 _Nick's voice. Nick's voice calling her name. She stopped._

 _He reached her, and was right behind her shoulders, when he spoke. "I would have acted the same way if my father's life was at stake." There was no accusation, no condemnation in his voice. It was Nick's warm and caring voice. She savored the moment, pretending for just one moment – oh please, for just one moment - nothing had ever happened, that they were still the same._

" _I even risked losing someone I cared very much about, just for his reputation." Melanie gulped against the lump in her throat as a lonely tear finally escaped past her eye, along her cheek and down her chin._

 _Nick put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing fondly, and turned her around as she closed her eyes, finally surrendering to the feelings that overwhelmed her: fear, regret, relief, and love. He took her chin between his thumb and index finger, tenderly lifting her head up, gazing deeply into her teary eyes with his warm hazel ones._

 _They embraced desperately, Melanie's head resting on his shoulder as she began to cry; feeling free, at last, to stop fighting._

" _It's alright… it's alright," he soothed between her sobs. "I'm here."_

 _That had been the last time she had ever seen him._

Melanie had been distractedly aware of Idanell talking and talking, but she hadn't been listening, the memory, the vision of her last encounter with Nick leaving her shaken and dizzy. She grasped the counter to find her balance.

"Melanie?" The woman called her, "Are you feeling alright? You're looking pale, dear."

"I'm okay, Mrs. Owles," she said drying the moisture in her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling, trying to regain her composure. "It's just… I think I laced my corset a little too tightly," she said letting out a little laugh.

"Oh, that's not good for your lungs," the woman said.

"What were you saying about Mrs. Barkley?" Melanie asked as soon as she was sure she wouldn't faint.

"Oh, that's interesting, you will love it. Nick came back one day from one of his business trips with this mysterious woman and introduced her to the Barkleys as his wife. Would you believe it? It took poor Victoria Barkley quite a while to recover from the shock." Idanell gave a little chuckle, finding the thing funny.

"They're living all together in the big house, but he's building a majestic mansion for her, in the most spectacular, panoramic spot on the Barkley land. Oh, I wouldn't expect any less from Nick Barkley. He's so romantic, and handsome, don't you think, Melanie?" If Idanell had ever known about Nick Barkley and Melanie De Land's love story, she must have forgotten. The woman liked a good gossip, but had taken Melanie under her wings and would never purposely hurt her.

"He sure is," Melanie admitted."

"He's very much in love, I'm told. After all, she's a real beauty, isn't she?"

"Yes, she sure is," Melanie, again, had to admit. "What's her name?" Melanie asked, suddenly feeling she had to know it, like if the name alone could tell her something about the woman who had married the only man she had ever loved.

"Sabrina. Sabrina Barkley is her name," Idanell proclaimed.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 3**

" _When you find the right man, hang onto him and hang these bells on the porch of your house," her father had once told her giving her the fortune bells he had brought her from India._

 _Sabrina walked out on the porch of the little green wooden house they had just bought. She was a bundle of joy, the wide smile on her face lighting up her joyful eyes, adding to her remarkable beauty. Hanging with one hand around the porch pole, covered in climbing white roses, she reached out to touch the fortune bells with her other hand and make them ring. They sounded like the laughter of a child, their child, who one day would come into this world. It was the best sound she had ever heard, and she loved it._

 _Jack came out the front door and embraced her from behind, folding her completely in his strong arms, making her laugh._

" _Do you really like it here?" she asked eagerly._

 _He kissed her on her cheekbone before replying. "Well, I've never had a home of my own."_

" _I haven't, either, not since I was a little child," she recalled, her gaze encompassing their little garden and the meadows beyond, flying across the woods and the green hills gently rising and descending, their edges standing out against the clear morning sky._

" _Well, I guess we ought to send Mr. Hannibal Jordan a thank you, now," he joked. Mr. Jordan had commissioned the job, the one that would put an end to his career as a professional gunslinger. The railroad Tycoon had paid him handsomely for his services._

" _I'll write one tomorrow," she joked along with a smile._

" _And Mr. Tom Barkley, I think he deserves some flowers," he said kissing her jaw, the image of the affluent rancher lying in a pool of blood, his deadly bullet gone through him cleanly, displaying in front of his eyes. No kind of regret, not even compassion for the life he had taken, for the man's wife and children, ever touched Jack Floyd's cold heart._

 _Sabrina tossed back her head in total abandon, hanging onto him as her father had said. "I think we do. I'm gonna plant rose bushes everywhere, and you're gonna plant alfalfa."_

" _Alfalfa…" he repeated and laughed. "It's all fine, but… what are we gonna do for excitement?" He asked. He had been asking that same question to himself many times those last weeks now that the possibility of his retirement had been put into concrete terms. Would he be able to settle down, to live the life of the common man? Taking a human life was an exciting feeling. No man, not even a king, was more powerful than he was when he drew his gun and shot._

 _Sabrina freed herself from his embrace and descended two porch steps, her gaze, again, taking in the surroundings. "We're gonna stay here until people have forgotten there ever was a Jack Floyd," she stated. She had loved the exciting, dangerous life they had lived so far and had even helped him, occasionally. But, she loved him too much to lose him, to even think he could someday find himself facing someone faster. At age fourteen, when she had left her uncle's house, she had sworn that someday she was going to take everything that life owed her, and by God this time she would._

" _Well, I guess we can figure out a few things to do… for a while," he conceded as he walked down the porch steps to reach her._

" _It's all I always wanted," she whispered as she turned around to face him. She threw her arms around his neck. "Tell me that you like it too…" she demanded._

 _Jack didn't answer as yet. He looked intensely into her magnetic eyes and bent to kiss her deeply, a hand on her back, pressing her body against his._

" _It's fine, sugar," he soothed. "Just fine. I'll prove it, too."_

Sabrina Lynn had truly loved two men in her life, her father, and Jack Floyd. Her father had died too early, when she was just eleven, but her life with Jack was going to be perfect.

Then Nick Barkley had come.

He had been hunting down the man who had killed his father for months, relentlessly until he had found him and killed him.

At last, Jack had really found himself facing someone faster.

Nick Barkley had taken Jack away from her, forever.

Revenge is a dish best served cold and Sabrina had been patient. She had waited months, years, for her revenge, her hate for the man who had killed her lover never diminishing, rather improving in time. She had followed him in his trips, had studied his habits. She knew his tastes, his strengths and weaknesses.

Three years had passed since Jack's death when she finally decided it was the time. Her trap was oiled and set, ready to spring.

She joined him at the Fresno Palace Hotel(*). He was throwing money around and bragging about some mythical 'Barkley Luck'. It had been so easy. She had smiled, and he was caught. A blink of her long lashes, and he was smitten. He had accompanied her to her room, and she had stricken the decisive blow, letting him kiss her. He had fallen deeply, helplessly in love with her.

A week later, she had proudly entered the Barkley mansion arm in arm with Nick, as Mrs. Nick Barkley.

Those dreams, those intense dreams, were like a second skin. They stuck on her body and mind for hours after she had woken up, intoxicating her, before they would slowly fade away. Her dreams, and her memories, were all that she had left.

"Oh, Jack, Jack…Jack…," she whispered, still feeling his touch on her hot, silky skin.

Every breath she took now that Floyd was dead, every new day was just a step she was taking toward her own grave, until the day they'd be together again. If it had to be in hell, that was fine with her. But, before, she intended to turn Nick Barkley's life into a hell, too.

Their new house – built on a spot of the Barkley land, on a ridge with a spectacular sight over the entire valley - was almost finished. Sabrina couldn't care less about it. Her only personal touch were the fortune bells hanging above the front porch, singing in silvery tones in the wind, like mermaids' calls.

That morning, she had lamented a headache and had stayed in bed. She went to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Like a cat, her feline eyes were accustomed to the darkness. She squinted at the light of another glorious day in the San Joaquin Valley. She moaned in disgust and shaded her eyes with a hand the man she hated was riding away, side by side with that ranch hand, Heath Thomson. The boss' pet.

She cocked her head and smiled, the tip of her tongue rapidly darting out and back inside her mouth. That Thomson would have been a good diversion and the first of the many times and the many ways she would hurt her husband. Nick was beyond an excellent lover, she had to admit that, he was attentive, caring, and generous. But now the time had come to use all the weapons she had at her disposal against him for her revenge. A sweet revenge, indeed. Thomson had something about him that intrigued her. Something hidden. A secret.

It was a sight to see, when he was working. His movements a mesmerizing dance, masculine yet gracious, his sleeves rolled up, his muscles leaping under his sweat-drenched shirt. In the saddle, he was one with the animal, pure wildness. And those hands, so big and powerful. Work-worn, calloused, bruised hands. She had spent hours observing those skillful hands as they were holding bridles, carrying saddles, stroking manes. Ah, how she craved for those hands to be all over her. Thomson was able to awaken her most hidden desires things she had always known were there but she hadn't dared indulge.

She had already tried to draw Thomson's attention but to no avail. He avoided her in any possible way, and this just had the effect of igniting her passion.

The poor boy seemed to have taken a liking to that ragged girl, Sharon Callahan, the squatter Nick had nearly shot together with her gross uncle and that bunch of drunkard Irish people. Oh, but that did not matter. She had no doubts she would have him, and use him for her purpose.

 _Say your prayers, Nick Barkley. You won't even know what hit you._

 _(*) Author's Note: In this A.U. story, Nick never met Sabrina before._


	4. Chapter 4

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 4**

 _Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the magnificent animal. There it was, free like the wind, his black mantle shining in the sun. The stallion reared and rushed off to join the other horses. The whole herd broke into a gallop, the manes waving, as the mares followed him as he flew across the plains in a race no one could stop._

 _Audra whipped her horse and in no time she, too, was flying down the hill alongside the stream. She would catch up with them and enjoy the sight of the wild beauty once again._

" _Hey, get out of the way!" a voice shouted alerting her, making her stop._

" _Watch out! Watch out!" She turned toward the sound and caught sight of a rider coming, galloping hard toward her._

" _Get out of there!" he shouted again. It was then that she heard the sound of the hooves. She turned to see the horses come toward her, raising a cloud of dust in their restless march, crushing everything in their way. Soon, they would crush her, too._

 _Transfixed by something that was beyond any fear she had ever known, Audra could do nothing but watch her end come._

 _Suddenly, something hit her hard, dragged her out of the saddle, down on the ground. Audra didn't realize what had happened, she just knew she was rolling and rolling, until the cold water shook off her state of stupor._

 _She was in the river, in the arms of a young man. The man who had just saved her life._

About one year before, Jarrod had announced he was marrying a mysterious woman. No one knew nor Jarrod had cared to explain, where she came from and who she really was except that she belonged to a prominent English family.

Emilie C. Le Breton was the most captivating woman Victoria had ever known. She was confident, gentle and humble at the same time. Victoria didn't know how to explain it, but she possessed something peculiar, like a light, that surrounded her. No one was immune to her charm.

Victoria had kept an article from the San Francisco Chronicle, concerning the famous English actress Lillie Langtry, who was at the top of her career and had the fame of being the most beautiful woman in the world. The article explained that Miss Langtry had withdrawn from public life and married a famous lawyer. Months ago the newspapers had spread the rumor that the woman had a love story with no less than the Prince of Wales. The portrait of Miss Lillie Langtry accompanied the article. The resemblance with her new daughter-in-law was uncanny.

Emilie and Jarrod was the handsomest couple. It was a pure joy for the lawyer's mother to see them together, calling each other with the sweetest words of endearment, walking hand in hand and stealing furtive glances like lovers do. Victoria had never seen her son so deeply in love and, now that Emilie was pregnant with their first baby they were as happy as they could possibly be.

Unfortunately, Victoria couldn't say the same about Nick and Sabrina. Like Emilie, Sabrina was surrounded by an aura of mystery, and she was undoubtedly a very beautiful woman but, right from the beginning, Victoria had thought there was something subtle in her, something Victoria just couldn't explain. After the first few weeks in which he seemed to be in a permanent state of bliss, even Nick himself didn't seem that happy anymore. On the contrary, he often looked sad, even depressed at times..

Victoria didn't trust Sabrina.

"Mother!" Audra's excited voice abruptly shook Victoria from her reverie.

"Audra, your hair! It's all wet! Where have you been?"

"Riding…" the girl answered with an enigmatic, dreamy smile.

"Through the swamp?" asked Nick, who was just then coming down from the first floor, arm in arm with Sabrina. They all walked toward the dining room.

As they took place around the table, Silas started serving their breakfast.

"Alongside the stream on Mokelumne," Audra explained, the dreamy smile still there.

"Well, surely you didn't fall in?" Victoria guessed.

"As it happens, I was... well... pushed in by a young man."

"Who?" Nick asked with a frown.

"I don't think it's anyone you know, Nick," Audra replied.

"Audra, if you were dunked, I am merely trying to find out who did the dunking!" Nick insisted.

"He didn't dunk me. He saved my life," Audra corrected.

"Saved your life?" Nick marveled.

"From a herd of wild horses," Audra explained. "I guess it was probably the most thrilling experience of my whole life," she added.

"Whoever he was, I'm very grateful to him. I'd like to meet him and tell him so," Victoria declared, and smiled her maternal smile at her.

"His name is Lloyd, I think. But I'd know him in a minute. I mean, you just can't forget what he looks like. I don't know, just... there's something so different about him," the girl said with such fondness like Victoria had never seen before.

"How'd he happen to be up there on Mokelumne?" Nick wanted to know.

"He catches wild horses, sells them when they're broken," Audra explained.

"You seem to know quite a lot about him," Victoria noticed.

"I'd like to know more…" Audra said with a sigh of delight.

"Well, time's a-wastin'," Nick said putting his napkin on the table and rising from his chair.

He put a small kiss on each lady's forehead. "Mrs. Barkley," he whispered to his wife, who smiled at him. Falsely, according to Victoria's feelings. In fact, Sabrina hadn't uttered a word during the whole meal. Victoria couldn't help but notice the glance the woman shot at her husband while he was walking out. It was a look of pure hatred.

Victoria shivered inside.

"Thomson, you come with me," Nick commanded.

"Sure, boss," Heath said quietly, pulling his horse's bridles in order to make her turn. One side of Heath's mouth curled upside. Just like always, more often as of lately, Nick Barkley had chosen no one else but him as his partner for the day to chase and gather the cattle that was spread all over the ranch. Some animals had gone quite far. Day after day, notwithstanding Heath's attempts at avoiding any kind of bonding, something very similar to a friendship had grown between the two men.

 _Too bad it is going to be over soon enough._

Nick enjoyed Thomson's company for many reasons. He admired the younger man's dedication to work, regardless the task. Even the humblest job turned into something different, almost mystical, in his hands. Nick also admired Thomson's way of getting straight to the point. The young man didn't curry favor with him, and Nick didn't have to ask to receive Thomson's earnest advice, either requested or not, on anything. The boy was quiet but had guts.

Yes, Nick Barkley liked Heath Thomson quite a lot. The boy had turned down all his attempts at fraternizing but Nick knew that, somehow, he had been able to break through the walls he had raised around himself, for whatever reason.

"You know, Thomson, I just decided something. I just decided that there's no bigger waste of man hours than chasing down a spooked herd. You know what I think? I'll tell you what I think. I think them stinkin' Murphy boys are the ones that scattered 'em! You wanna know why? I'll tell you why. Because they happen to know we're in the middle of a round-up and they're just mean enough to spook them out on us!" Nick accompanied his words with an eloquent gesture of his arm, pointing an accusatory gloved finger toward the presumed guilty men.

Heath was having a hard time trying not to burst into a laugh. He had been at the ranch just a few months and he had learned there was more than one side of Nick Barkley. He had known the fair boss, the loyal brother, the devoted son, the loving husband. But, one of the things he appreciated the most was the man's comic side. "That's what you think, huh?" Heath asked, a half-smile on his face.

"That is what I think," Nick confirmed stressing each word. "I also think I ought to go over there and bash a couple of Murphy heads together," Nick continued, secretly satisfied at the other man's apparent amusement.

"Since you're getting so heated up, I think you ought to do that," Heath fueled him.

"I just might do that! You want to come along?"

"No, thanks."

"Well, I'll go alone then!"

"You know, Barkley, sometimes you get so brave you scare me."

"Yeah, well… Now, what are you starin' at?"

"I wonder what those buzzards are starin' at…"

Following Heath's gaze, Nick looked upwards. A dozen grim big birds were flying in circles. They meant nothing good. They meant death and grief.

In the brush, the golden eyes of a cougar sparkled. The animal crouched, his powerful paws ready to spring, his sharp fangs ready to stab.

For the poor calf, there was no escape. Later, the buzzards would take care of what the cat left behind.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 5**

"I didn't hear you come home yesterday, Audra," Victoria let on in a light tone, her coffee cup in her hands as her daughter was taking her seat at the breakfast table with a beatific smile on her face. She watched the girl serve herself a hearty portion of scrambled eggs and ham.

"Oh, we just didn't realize it was getting late," Audra said diverting her eyes from her mother. She put down her fork and knife and opted for pouring herself some coffee, instead.

"How romantic. I imagine you two have found a way to busy yourselves otherwise. It must have been easy to lose track of time," Sabrina maliciously remarked. She smiled at the embarrassed silence that followed, with Audra looking into her cup, her cheeks immediately turned red.

Victoria frowned but said nothing.

"Aren't you moving pretty fast? Why don't you slow down, little sister? We hardly know him," Nick reproached, more bothered by his wife's remark of his sister than he cared to admit to himself.

"But I do!" Audra retorted.

"Yeah, what's it been, a couple of weeks?" Nick asked curtly.

"A month, and that's long enough!" Audra was now on the verge of tears, her lower lip trembling in indignation. Victoria's gaze moved from the girl to a satisfied Sabrina and, finally, to an upset Nick.

"Look, Audra, you better do what you've been told and stay away from that tramp," Nick spat out more brusquely than he intended, and regretted his words as soon as they had been said.

Victoria's frown deepened. Why couldn't Nick see Lloyd's good qualities? He was poor, yes, but had had a good education and was a man of strong principles. Above all, it was clear to anyone with eyes Audra and Lloyd were deeply in love with each other.

Audra decided hiding her tears was pointless. Two rivulets rolled down her cheeks as she stood and tossed her napkin on the table. "He may be a _tramp_ , but he's a complete gentleman, so different from you! Jarrod would never talk to me like that!" Audra yelled and stormed out of the room.

"Audra, I…" Nick started to rise from his chair, but Sabrina grasped his sleeve.

"You promised me you'd accompany me to Stockton, Nick. I need a new dress for the party at the Travis' next week," she said sharply.

"Yes, darling," Nick said reluctantly, beginning to follow his wife out of the dining room, just to be stopped by his mother's voice.

"Nick, can I have a word with you?"

Audra was brushing Jingo with long, loving strokes. She missed her eldest brother terribly. Riding and taking care of his horse was a way to feel him closer while he was away. Jarrod could be strict at times, but he had always respected her. Nick, on the other hand, didn't even look like himself anymore. He was nervous and snappy and looked tired.

As her hands ran skillfully on the gentle animal's coat, her thoughts flew to the man she loved. The way he looked at her, so intensely she could drown in those blue eyes. The way he said her name with his deep, caressing voice.

Audra's love story with Lloyd Garner hadn't begun under the most favorable auspices. Lloyd had saved Audra's life and for that, the family would be eternally grateful. But Lloyd had no family, no roots, he had been traveling from town to town since childhood and he didn't seem to have much to offer to the Barkleys' heiress. Audra had been very upset by the cold reception of her beau from her family, especially Nick.

Lloyd worked for a man named Turk who, along with his band of mustangers – or pack of coyotes, as Sabrina had called them – chased and broke wild horses in order to sell them. They would soon move on and Audra was scared to death at the thought her Lloyd could leave forever. What the girl didn't know was that Victoria had talked Nick into hiring Lloyd, and the rancher had promised he would have given some thought to it.

Audra raised her head to see Lloyd ride in. Tied with a rope around his neck, a mighty beautiful black horse was trotting beside him.

 _Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the magnificent animal. There it was, free like the wind, his black mantle shining in the sun. The stallion reared and rushed off to join the other horses. The whole herd broke into a gallop, the manes waving, as the mares followed him as he flew across the plains in a race no one could stop._

 _Sky Flyer!_ she thought in awe, already calling the animal with the name she had given him in her mind. Lloyd had caught him!

She ran to them, beyond herself at the joy of seeing both the animal and the man, marveling yet again at the explosion of feelings in her heart.

"Where did you find him?" she inquired, breathlessly.

"About a mile from where you saw him. We had quite a chase," the young man explained with a warm smile.

"Oh, he's beautiful!" she complimented, her eyes taking in the magnificent animal, looking him up and down.

"That's why I caught him for you." Lloyd's smile widened.

"For me?" Audra asked.

"Of course, he's gonna cost you." Lloyd pointed out playfully.

"How much?" She asked stroking the horse's mane, a small smile on her face.

"A couple of hours in town tonight having supper with me at the hotel," he specified.

"Tonight? I don't know... It's very short notice," she teased.

"There's a pleasure in doing things on impulse," he stated all of sudden serious, catching her eyes.

"Oh, I love being impulsive," she responded, holding his gaze.

"I... There's a special reason why I want you to have supper with me," Lloyd added rather awkwardly, suddenly not that confident anymore.

"What is it?" Audra asked.

"Well… it's kind of a celebration for us," he explained.

"For us?" She asked.

"If it hadn't been for him, we'd never have met. It's been a month today," Lloyd said, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh, Lloyd, how thoughtful of you. I'll be delighted," she gladly accepted his invitation.

Nick's loud voice broke the spell. "Well, where'd he come from?" The young couple turned their heads to see him come with his foreman, McNally, in tow. The older man crossed his arms, watching his boss walk around the stallion, sizing him up. He winked at Audra, who smiled back at him. The man had something about him that inspired trust. He was reassuring and… fatherly.

"He's mine. A gift from Lloyd," Audra declared warily, ready to give her brother a piece of her mind if he only did as much as say something wrong.

"That's a fine-looking animal. Saddle broke?" The rancher asked circumspectly. Audra was his little sister, after all, and she hadn't turned nineteen yet. He felt it was his precise duty to surveil her and keep her safe.

"I've had a saddle on him, but he'll need careful handling for a few more days," Lloyd explained, a little uncertain where Nick was actually getting at. He knew the rancher didn't approve his relationship with Audra, and Nick Barkley was certainly a man who could strike fear into any man's heart, but Lloyd was ready to fight for their right to be happy together.

"Uh-huh. I see. Speaking of wild horses … Hey, McNally!" Nick gestured toward his foreman, asking him to come closer.

"Yes, boss?"

"Is everything ready for the rodeo?"

"Well… not exactly, Nick… You know Joshua left and you and Thomson are too busy to…"

"Tsk! Tsk!… I bet five thousand dollars with that good-for-nothing Zach Morton" Nick said, shaking his head in disappointment, "and I'll be damned if I'm going to lose them."

"Between us, boss, if you want a chance to win the upcoming rodeo, you need a professional wrangler," McNally stated with conviction.

"Lloyd, Audra's been bragging about you being the best bronco buster this side of the Divide. What do you think? Can I count you in?"

"Well you know, Nick, Turk and the boys will be moving in a short time and I… uh… I don't want to go with them…" Lloyd admitted.

"So? What do you say?" Nick pressed.

"Yes! Of course yes!" The young man rapturously agreed.

"You can start tomorrow, Lloyd. Take your gear over to the bunkhouse," McNally instructed. "Welcome to the Barkley Ranch."

"Thank you, Nick, Mr. McNally. Thank you very much!" Lloyd shook both men's hands. "Audra, I'll call for you at six," he added, and turned to leave, happy as he could be.

Audra knew all too well Nick and McNally had already agreed to offer Lloyd the job. She threw her arms around Nick's neck and tiptoed to kiss him on his cheek. "Thank you, Nick, you won't regret it, I promise… and I forgive you, big brother!" She added earnestly. She meant it.

As the girl parted and went happily back to her new horse, a lonely, well-marked dimple appeared on the right side of Nick Barkley's face, as he smiled fondly.

McNally thought it was good to see Nick smile again.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Claws of the Cat – Chapter 6**

Heath grasped the lever pumping up and down to make the air blow through the bellows into the fire, then he started hammering vigorously at the heated metal. The branding iron was ready to be forged, the capital letter B with a diagonal slash through it was now incandescent. Among the many jobs Heath Thomson had done in his life, apprentice in a blacksmith workshop had been one of his favorites. He appreciated the hard work and the inexplicable satisfaction that he derived from accomplishing a well-done work of crafting, to take the raw material, shape it, turn it into something else, something useful.

He dropped the hammer at the sudden sound of Sabrina's melodious, falsely kind voice.

"Can I take you a lemonade, Heath? You're sweating," she said feigning apprehension and reached out to put her open palm on his chest. The gesture was so licentious in its simplicity, that Heath's stomach knotted. More than once, he had felt observed and turning his head he had found the woman half-hidden somewhere, her eyes on him, on his skin, like she could use them to touch him. He had felt completely naked and had never worked bare-chested since.

"No, thank you. I'm alright, Mrs. Barkley," Heath replied quietly and stepped aside, leaving his task half-finished. He went to his horse's stall and grabbed the bridles. He then turned and started to walk outside, his horse meekly following.

She grasped his arm. "You don't have to be so shy, Heath. We Barkleys are open-minded people, especially me. We're not against getting acquainted with our employees."

"Thank you, Ciego," Heath heard a deep familiar voice say. He turned his head to see Lloyd Garner, all dressed up, give his bridles to the Mexican, and felt immensely relieved and grateful for an unexpected way to escape the awkward situation.

"Hey, Garner!" he called from inside the barn, at the same time yanking to free himself from Sabrina's grasp.

"Thomson!" the other man said and stepped inside the barn. They shook hands and Garner slapped Heath on his shoulder.

"It's good to see you, Heath. What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Hard work, as you can see," Heath said opening his arms to let the other man see his dirty clothes. "Besides, I could ask you the same," Heath observed.

Garner gave a little laugh "You're right. Do you know Miss Audra Barkley?

"I've seen her around, yes," Heath said.

Well… I'm taking her to town tonight," Lloyd informed.

"You're saying you're dating Miss Barkley?" Heath asked.

"I guess you could say that, yes," Lloyd stated.

Unexpectedly, an unknown feeling overwhelmed Heath, catching him completely off guard. It took him a while before he could make out what it was. In his twenty-three years, he had never felt anything like that before. He was a lonely man and had had no relatives since his mother's death. He knew nothing about kinship or love for a younger sibling. Or older, for that matter. But there it was, a fierce sense of protectiveness which had come over him so suddenly and powerfully it had left him numb. He looked down, saw his hands balled into fists and realized he had been ready to punch Lloyd.

 _What the hell are you thinking? Lloyd is a good man and the closest thing to a friend you've ever had. You better keep your head boy! You're nothing to Audra Barkley, she doesn't even remember your name._ He thought bitterly.

"Do tell!" Heath said instead, trying to relax his tense shoulders.

"Well, you see, a month ago I saved her life from a horse stampede."

"What? A horse…"

"Could you believe it? She was right there in the way, paralyzed. I jumped and dragged her down just a second before it was too late. We both took a bath in the creek but it was worth it."

Heath recalled the odd sight of the girl coming home all drenched one morning, about a month before and swallowed hard at the thought of what could have happened. "It sure was," he confirmed.

"We've been dating since," Lloyd continued. "I'm taking her to town, and I'm proposing to her tonight" Garner concluded.

"A month! Well, no wonder I haven't happened to meet you, Lloyd. That bossy Barkley keeps me pretty busy." Heath said, good-naturedly, of his employer. _And, after all, who little Miss horse whip is dating is none of my business, now is it?_ He added to himself. "I take it Turk is around?" Heath asked changing the subject, still not feeling at ease with his own feelings.

"We set camp that way," Garner said vaguely gesturing toward East, "Beside the Calaveras," Lloyd informed. "By the way, where the hell have you been? One morning we woke up and you were gone. Francie never forgave you, you know…" Lloyd chastised teasingly.

Francie was a spirited brunette with deep, dark eyes. She had been with Turk and his band for a long time and was like a sister to Lloyd. In the period Heath had been working for the wandering mustanger, Heath and Francie had had a short but intense love story.

 _The campfire was burning, red and warm against the cold black night. Just a blanket separated their bodies from the bare ground, as they were lying close one to the other, her body curled against his, her forehead against his shoulder._

" _Don't you ever think about your home, your mother, Heath?" She asked softly._

" _I only think about tomorrow, not yesterday," he replied._

 _And of course, in his mind, he was already back in Strawberry, back to the mother he had not seen in years. Leah Thomson, his young, beautiful mother. The way she was before they had started arguing, her laughter so genuine, refreshing like the cool waters of a stream on a hot day. The way she was after, her eyes puffy for having cried herself to sleep. It was so hurtful he could actually feel the pain in his heart. How could he have forgotten how much he loved her?_

 _Francie thought he had fallen asleep when Heath spoke again. "I'll find what I'm looking for out there," he declared._

 _The day after, he was gone, headed to Strawberry. But his hometown was no more the booming town he remembered before the war._

 _He blindly watched her name on the tombstone, his hand clutching her bible, and the paper clipping that was inside so tightly his knuckles were white. All that was left of her. He pressed his eyelids shut and let his tears flow._

 _It was too late. Too late to give her back her joy. He would never hear her laughter again._

"I'm sorry, Lloyd," Heath just said.

"She and Turk are engaged, now. I knew sooner or later it would have happened."

"I'm happy for them," Heath said, realizing without surprise that he just didn't care. "You said it's been a month, so Turk will want to be moving soon," Heath guessed.

Lloyd laughed. "You know old Turk, don't you. But I won't go with them this time. The Barkleys offered me a job and I accepted. I'm glad you're here, too. I have a feeling Nick doesn't like me much."

"I don't plan to stay long, Lloyd," Heath said glancing at his booted feet. "Speaking of Nick, he's waiting for me, we have to check the East Pasture section. Something has been spooking the cattle these last days and they're throwing down the fences all over the Barkley land."

"Thomson!" the loud, commanding voice came from behind their backs.

"Speak of the devil…" Heath joked. Both men burst into a laugh and stepped outside in the light of the day.

In the shadows of the barn, Sabrina's feline eyes sparkled. She folded her arms and leaned against the wall, a malicious smirk spoiling the beautiful face. He had escaped, this time, but he couldn't run forever, he had nowhere to go and nowhere to hide and, sooner or later, she would find him. Alone.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Claws of the Cat - Chapter 7**

Since Victoria could remember, riding had always had the power of calming her nerves. And, that morning, she had so much on her mind she had felt the compelling need to be alone with her horse.

Victoria rode out of the ranch, into the wideness of the Barkley land. She and Misty Girl entered the woods. The foliage was a barrier to the sunlight as they penetrated the quiet dim light inside. Victoria ducked to avoid a low branch and relaxed as she listened to the pleasant sound of her mare's hooves crack the twigs on the ground. She set Misty Girl on her pacing steed, purposely avoiding the clearing where Tom's grave laid. To be near her husband always brought raw feelings to the surface. At times she needed that, to feel her hot blood run in her veins. But not today.

When they stepped out of the woods and arrived at the trail, she loosened the bridles, letting Misty Girl follow the path she knew so well. For a while, Victoria just kept her mind blank and let the pleasure of being alone in the wilderness flow through her and fill her tormented soul.

That Thomson boy, the hired hand both Nick and Audra were so fond of, was one of the things that more than troubled her. It was apparent he was trying to avoid her in every way possible, even going so far as to divert his eyes every time she happened to look at him. It was crystal clear he was hiding something. But there was more. He looked rather familiar and it wasn't just about his looks. It was about the way he talked, and walked, and even rode. Yes, the young man had a wholesome family feel to him. Victoria just couldn't place it.

On the other hand, she sure could place the way her daughter-in-law looked at him, like she was mentally undressing him. It was unmistakable and obscene. Victoria wondered whether Nick had noticed and especially what would happen when he'd find out.

She was beyond worried for Nick. That woman was turning her middle son's life into a living hell and there was nothing she could do. That morning, she had caught Nick sneaking out of the guest room. He had clearly spent the night there, banned from his own bedroom. By the haggard face, it was also clear he hadn't slept. Her heart bleeding, Victoria had quickly disappeared back in her room in order to give her son some privacy in his misery.

Sabrina was a snake ready to strike with the only intent of poisoning Nick's life. Nick certainly wasn't a man to let anyone rule his life, yet he was letting Sabrina play cat and mouse with Audra, the sister he loved so deeply. Sabrina never missed a chance to torment the poor girl, and Nick just seemed to be helpless, with no sort of control over his wife. Victoria had taken it upon herself to protect her daughter. But, who protected Nick?

The few times Victoria had tried to talk to him, Nick had quickly changed the subject. She hadn't insisted, for the moment. After all, he was his own man, and she was just a woman. Nick respected her, but wouldn't listen. He was stubbornly in love with his wife. And, when he was in love, Nick didn't think clearly. How long would it take before Nick would finally see Sabrina for who she really was?

That was the question, who Sabrina really was? Victoria just didn't know and she doubted Nick himself knew more than his wife allowed him. What she had done, her whole life before she had become Mrs. Nick Barkley, was wrapped in mystery.

In spite of herself, Victoria visualized her daughter-in-law's smirk, gloating after she had shot one of her stinging quips at Audra. How she had wanted to slap her insolent face, that time. How she wanted to slap her arrogant face all the time.

Feeling the need to run away from the odious vision and from her own thoughts, Victoria spurred Misty Girl. The mare enjoyed a good gallop and immediately reacted to the woman's input. Before Victoria was fully aware of it, they were galloping hard and fast. Hard and fast, away from her troubles and concerns.

In her black leather riding suit, smiling at the wind, Victoria felt again like the intrepid young wife she had been when she and Tom had packed all their hopes and dreams and had come to this Valley, ready to do whatever it took to make them real.

She was unaware of what was happening around her. She didn't know the sky was rapidly, inexorably clouding, that it was now lingering heavy and dark, above her head.

Crouched down, McNally was placing the last trap. He had placed several of them already, hoping they would catch whatever was spooking and killing the cattle. A bear? A cougar? Hard to tell. The traps were mean, cruel things, but necessary. This was the last one. He lowered down the rings and opened it with his gloved hands with no effort.

At the sound of a galloping horse approaching, McNally looked up. As the rider rode past him without seeing him, an unfathomable smile on her face, she recognized her, Victoria Barkley. He had seen her at the Barkley mansion the few times he had to accompany Nick for some reason, or around the ranch, mostly when she was coming home or going to town with the buggy, and had always thought she was beautiful and classy. But now, dressed like a man, riding like the most expert of the horsemen, she was a sight to see.

His task achieved, McNally was ready to mount his horse and go back to the ranch. When a raindrop fell on his face, he looked at the sky and frowned, it was darkening and the air tasted like iron. A storm was coming, he needed to hurry back. He hadn't completed the thought yet when a lightning bolt lit up the sky and the crack of thunder echoed so loudly Old Duke snorted nervously. McNally reassured the animal speaking to him softly and mounted, bracing himself against the shower he was going to take on his way to the ranch.

At the sound of a frantic whinny he turned his head around, in the distance, he saw Mrs. Barkley's horse buck wildly, the petite woman being slammed in the air, tossed to the ground as the spooked horse ran away under the pouring rain.

A feeling of urgency growing in his gut McNally rode harder than he had ever done in his life. He jumped down from his horse before the animal had come to a complete stop and hurled himself to the woman, taking her gingerly in his arms. He took off his right hand glove with his teeth and checked for injuries with expert fingers. He found a lump on the back of her head.

He looked at her as the raindrops were falling down on her face. Her skin was rosy and silky like the years hadn't touched her. He took in the ample arcs of her eyebrows, her heart-shaped mouth, slightly open. Her features weren't perfect, but together they were so harmonious the result was almost supernatural. When she opened her eyes he found himself drowning in their gray depths, helpless against the wild hammering of his heart.

"McNally! What… What happened" She breathed, still abandoned in his arms.

"Your horse spooked at the thunder. You fell and hit your head. You lost your senses for quite a while, you must be careful, ma'am," the man recounted, trying without much success to regain his composure, his heart still bucking and roaring like the wild horse Lloyd had given to Miss Audra.

As he helped her to her feet, the rain was already subduing, but they were both drenched to the bone. "I'm fine, McNally, thank you. Where is Misty Girl?" Victoria asked rather curtly, ignoring the pounding, throbbing pain at the base of her head, that was rapidly spreading up her scalp.

"She's nowhere to be seen, ma'am. I'm afraid we'll have to share Old Duke, here, to go back to the ranch." Her headache making her meeker than she really was, Victoria let the man accompany her the few steps to his horse, his arm around her waist. She put her foot on the stirrup in order to climb in the saddle. She needed to be home as soon as possible and change her clothes.

Suddenly, the world blurred and she lost her balance, falling yet again in McNally's ready arms. As the dizziness subdued and her vision came back to normal, the first thing she saw was the man's azure eyes. They were kind, honest eyes, so clear for a moment she thought she was seeing through the depth of his very soul.

"You have a concussion, ma'am. You better take it easy and let me do the hard work," McNally said softly after a while. She docilely let him help her on Old Duke and grasped the saddle horn as he mounted behind her and took the bridles.

As they calmly rode to the ranch, the rain stopped. Victoria looked up, the sun was shining and not even a cloud was in the glorious sky. The air, though, had cooled a bit and she could feel it sting her wet skin. She shivered, as the warmth coming from the unavoidable contact with the foreman's body behind her washed over her. She hadn't been embraced by a man since Tom's death, and she couldn't help but welcome the almost forgotten feeling.

McNally was in the foyer, his hat in his hands, nervously pacing and not at all at ease. He heard voices come from the second floor and looked up to see Nick and Audra descend with the doctor. The smile on their faces left no doubt about the fact their mother wasn't in danger. He sighed in relief.

As they arrived at the front door, the doctor reassured Audra about her mother conditions. "It's just a minor head trauma, Audra, but she needs plenty of rest and please avoid stressful situations."

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll see to it," Audra said as the doctor walked out the door.

"Well, well, it looks like we have a hero here!" Nick said slapping McNally on his shoulder. "Thank you, Sean," he added more seriously taking his right hand in both his and shaking it vigorously.

"Anytime, boss," the foreman said with a broad smile, realizing Nick had called him by his first name for the very first, and probably last time.

When Victoria woke up the day after, the headache had gone. As she replayed the events of the day before, she wondered what it was that had really happened. The storm, her horse spooked… and then him. _Sean McNally_ , she murmured. Somehow, the name didn't feel right. Her very feelings didn't feel right. She didn't understand them.

Something had undoubtedly happened between the two of them, but she couldn't exactly tell what it was. _I still love my husband. I still love Tom Barkley._ She repeated to herself. Maybe, it was the fact that she had felt taken care of, reassured by a man's presence. Yes, it had to be that.

Her train of thought was rudely interrupted by a commotion coming from Nick and Sabrina's room. She heard a thud, a crash, Sabrina yelling furiously, a door being opened and slammed shut, Nick's heavy steps in the hallway. It was a pattern she was beginning to get used to.

Victoria sighed, distressed. She took her marriage picture from her night table and caressed Tom's beloved features.

"Oh Tom, help me, help us," she pleaded.

\- 1 -


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Emilie turned a page and yawned. This baby had been good to her all these months, she hadn't had any nausea, but the sleepiness… she could fall asleep at any time of the day and it was never enough. She caressed her belly and the baby moved, tickling her inside, making her laugh. The baby's touch was light and gentle, like the wings of a little bird. Emilie sighed in contentment. She didn't miss anything of her old life. Not the fame, not the suitors, not the fancy parties, not all those whimsical people orbiting around her like lonely planets around a shiny star. She was more than happy with her present life.

Emilie went back to her page. " _To me, the spectacle of a man drifting serenely along through such a queer yarn without ever smiling, was exquisitely absurd._ "

Exquisitely absurd. Like those tales the newspaper had been telling about her being the "royal mistress"(*). She had been hurt so badly by those rumors she had decided to leave the country for a while and let it all blow over. She had come to America and that had been the best decision she had ever made. She had met the charming young barrister by the name of Jarrod Thomas Barkley, Esq., at the Governor's ball and her life had changed forever.

Oh, concentrating on her reading wasn't possible. She could just as well close the book and indulge in the sweet thoughts that had been tugging at her sleeve all day. She closed her eyes and visualized the beloved face of her handsome husband. " _Lillie, my life_ ", his deep, warm voice pronouncing her childhood nickname echoed in her ears. "Oh, Jarrod my love," her inner voice called him as her lips moved to silently form his name. The image of his blue, blue eyes filled her closed eyes as the warm feeling of their mutual love enveloped her like a soft blanket.

As he entered the parlor of the luxury apartment they had bought in Nob Hill, Jarrod smiled at the sight of his heavenly beautiful wife fast asleep on their settee. So abandoned, a protective hand on her pregnant belly and the other hand holding a book, the delicate head resting on the stuffed seat back, she looked so vulnerable. He wanted to protect her, to protect the child that was inside her, their child. He was born to protect them. It was so clear now his whole life, all the things he had done so far had just been a prelude to this moment.

Moved to tears by the surge of love that overwhelmed his heart, Jarrod came closer and sat on the border of the settee. He looked at the title of the book. _The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, and Other Sketches by Mark Twain_. The book his mother had given him the last time she had come to San Francisco. From her last letter, even though she hadn't really said anything, he could tell she was worried. He knew her too well. She was worried and he believed it all had to do with Nick's wife. Jarrod hadn't known Sabrina long, but that small amount of time had been more than enough to learn how untrustworthy she was. _She was false as water_ (**), he quoted in his mind. And mean. When they had announced the pregnancy to the family, Sabrina had nonchalantly thrown a nasty comment which in his memory, still infuriated him.

" _So what will you call this baby, Jarrod? Bertie?"_ She had asked derisively, a smile on the unperturbed, beautiful face. Jarrod groaned in disgust at the memory. Wanting to divert his mind from the disturbing thought, he focused once again on Emilie's angelic face. Oh, God, how beautiful she was. Her mouth was slightly open as she breathed steadily. Her lips curved almost imperceptibly upwards and her eyes moved underneath her lids for a pleasant dream passing by.

He reached out and cupped her warm cheek with his open palm. She sighed. Jarrod bent and whispered thoughtfully in her perfectly chiseled ear. "I better cover you up, my life, before you catch a cold." When he gingerly pulled the book out of her hands, she opened her eyes. She didn't move from her position and just smiled at him the most fond smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't want to wake you, my life," he said regretfully, laying down the book on the tea table.

"Oh, Jarrod, my love. It's such a joy to wake up to the sight of your eyes," she replied from the same position she had been, just reaching out and taking his hand. He bent to kiss her on her lips. "I love you, Lillie," he said. He wanted to go back to the ranch once the baby was born. She could sure use Mother's help and he was missing his home and brothers and sister. He would have already gone if it wasn't for Sabrina. He and Emilie had discussed and decided to wait for Nick's house to be finished, but now he was feeling the urge to go and check on his mother as soon as possible.

"What are you thinking, my love?" Emilie asked.

"You know, my life, I was thinking about making a little trip to the ranch. You can still travel this early in the pregnancy and I am a little worried for Mother. She wouldn't tell me but I know there's something wrong."

"Oh, yes, my beloved, you know I will follow you to the ends of the earth. I've been feeling so lonely and I'm missing your…" Suddenly, Emilie sucked some air through her teeth and clutched Jarrod's hand.

"Lillie? Lillie are you alright?" Jarrod asked worriedly, her hand still in his, all his senses already on full alert.

"Just… Just like a… tightening in the stomach, my love, I don't think it is anything bad," she reassured him, smiling weakly for his benefit.

But Jarrod was already on his feet. "I'll get the doctor," he said resolutely and quickly left the room before he could see Emilie struggle in the throes of another uncomfortable contraction.

"So where did you say you're from, Thomson?" Nick asked hammering the last staple in order to attach the wire as Heath was holding the post still with both hands in the hole he had dug.

"I didn't say it," Heath responded matter-of-factly as he left the post and carefully unrolled another ball of wire. They were ready for the next one.

Nick laid the hammer on the top of the post and rested his fists on his hips, frowning. "Alright. Would you care to tell me where are you from, Thomson?"

Heath sighed. "Mining camp," came his evasive response as he offered the extremity of the wire to Nick. Nick didn't take it just as yet. "What mining camp?" he asked, finally taking the wire from a relieved Heath and making it turn around the post, as the other man took a firm hold of it.

"Strawberry."

"Strawberry," Nick repeated. "I have already heard this name."

Heath didn't comment and the two men went on working together in companionable silence and in perfect synergy.

"You know what, Thomson? As much as enjoy your company, we might save some time if we split up."

"We probably would, as late as it's gettin'."

"Tell you what. I'll go further down the line and you follow up here."

"Alright, Barkley."

"It'll be dark before you're through, you better spend the night in the line shack."

"That's what I figured."

"Sounds like you were looking for an excuse to spend the night out on the range, Thomson."

"Well, once in a while I like to be off by myself, boss," Heath confirmed.

"You know, Thomson, sometimes I'd like to do that myself," Nick said with a sadder tone than he intended.

"Just say the word, Barkley. You take the bunk and I'll sleep on the floor. I've slept in worse places," Heath suggested.

Nick thought for a little while, then shrugged. "Nah, or Sabrina will have my hide," he said with a awkward laugh that sounded false to his own ears.

Heath said nothing and gave Nick a little, sympathetic smile.

"You have to come over to dinner sometime, Thomson," Nick said and turned to get his horse before Heath could reply.

Heath watched him ride away. Sighing deeply, he went back to his task. He wanted to complete the section before sunset. He looked around and since there was no one in sight, he took off his shirt, revealing his well-built chest, and used it to mop his sweated forehead.

Yes, he would finish the section. Hard work had always been the best way for avoiding pesky thoughts.

(*) My Emilie is loosely inspired by Lillie Langtry ( wiki/Lillie_Langtry). She was indeed the Prince of Wales, Albert Edward, later Edward VII, Queen Victoria's son's mistress. Like Langtry, my Emilie was an English actress and knew the Prince of Wales, but in my story she never was his mistress. Lillie Langtry was married and had a daughter, probably not from her husband. She was a close friend of Oscar Wilde's and she had a reputation for being the most beautiful woman in the world.

(**) Quote from Shakespeare's Othello, Act V, Scene II


	9. Chapter 9

_They dismounted in a clearing, under the moon's pale light, their horses patiently waiting for them as they ventured a little more into the woods. They had spent a couple of hours together in town, having dinner at the Cattleman's Hotel. Audra couldn't decide which had been more delicious, the food or the furtive looks Lloyd kept stealing at her when he thought she was distracted._

 _The young man was quiet, his handsome face serious, his eyes scanning the darkness in front of them. Audra closed the distance between them and, feeling uncomfortable in the prolonged silence, felt the urge to say something._

" _Something bothering you, Lloyd?"_

" _No, no, nothing," he said, turning to look at her._

" _Perhaps I wasn't as good company as you thought," the girl said sorrowfully._

 _Lloyd looked her in the eyes intensely. "Don't ever think that, Audra. You couldn't be better company.. You're wonderful."_

" _Thank you," Audra whispered._

 _His hand lovingly cupping her cheek, he searched for her lips. Their kiss deepened and Lloyd's arm slid around her waist, making Audra's heart pound wildly, her thoughts out of control. And then Lloyd's hand was there again, on the side of her face, his thumb under her chin._

" _You're so beautiful," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her lips. "Until now I never felt really free of the past," he said, caressing her silky cheek. "Knowing you makes me forget it ever happened."_

 _A myriad of different feelings, a whirlwind of unknown sensations took hold of Audra's heart and body as they kissed again. She felt the need to part before they lost themselves, stepping further into the unexplored land of no return._

" _It's getting late, Lloyd," she said faintly, beginning to walk back toward their horses._

" _Audra, wait," he said gently grabbing her arm. "Audra, I spent days and nights wondering how this is possible, that what I feel for you is so overwhelming that sometimes I think I'm going to lose my mind. But this is the truth and I know it's early but there's nothing I can do about it. I love you with everything I have, with everything I am. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my wife."_

 _Audra couldn't reply just yet. Lloyd's words were spoken directly from his heart to her own, warming it, making it tremble with the strongest emotion she had ever experienced._

" _All my love to you, beloved son. Your mother, Victoria Barkley_." Eugene laid the paper on his desk and rested his head on his fists sighing in longing as he visualized in his mind his mother's features and counted the days until the summer break. He might be a grown man, but he still missed his ma'. Since Tom Barkley's death, when he was a confused teenager and Audra was just a child, she had been their only parent. Jarrod, by his side, had been more than an older brother, so much so that they had started calling him "pappy," a nickname they still used as a term of endearment and that even Nick used to borrow from time to time.

In her letter, Victoria had been telling him about Audra dating some ranch hand named Lloyd. This wasn't the first time his sister had been dating a ranch hand.. Eugene just hoped this Lloyd was better than that Don Jarvis. Audra was known to quickly fall in love and just as quickly fall out of it. She had collected a series of delusions, from their neighbor Frank Craddock to Nick's childhood friend Carl Wheeler, to finish with creepy Evan Miles. Each one of them had proved stupid and greedy, if not dangerous.

The sound of his door opening shook him from his reverie, as Russell Brooks' red head peeped in.

"Hey, Gene, you coming? Professor Hawthorne's lesson will be in two minutes." Eugene's good friend and classmate asked.

"You bet I am, Rusty! I need to know everything about vaccines, because…"

"I know, I know, Barkley, your-family-has-a-cattle-ranch," he declaimed. "Come on, we're late," he urged and disappeared outside, leaving the door ajar.

Eugene rose from his chair, folded the letter his mother had sent, put it in the drawer and closed it, his mind already set on the mysterious invisible world of germs and all the other unknown wonders he was going to listen to.

After an interminably long, dreadful wait without knowing what was happening, thinking the most unthinkable thoughts, Jarrod jumped to his feet as Doctor Morley closed the door with a click. He looked at the old family friend through tortured blue eyes, a loose lock of black hair across his forehead. He had unfastened the first button of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves. "How is she, Doctor? Is the baby safe? Is Emilie alright?" Jarrod's barrage of questions came unrelentingly.

The good doctor clasped Jarrod's shoulder firmly. "She's alright, son. She is resting. Jarrod, I won't lie to you, contractions are dangerous this early in the pregnancy. I'm worried. Honestly, if Emily has a premature delivery, I don't think the baby will survive," he admitted earnestly.

 _I don't think the baby will survive_. The doctor's words were like a sharp, cold blade stabbed in his heart. The child who was his and Emilie's, the child of their love, wouldn't survive. Emilie would be crushed. "What can I do, Doctor? Please, tell me. I'll do anything" Jarrod said vehemently.

"Jarrod, I wish I could do more, but I can't. I'm afraid Emilie must spend the rest of her pregnancy in bed.. There's not much more any of us can do," the older man said regretfully.

"I see, Doc," Jarrod murmured disconsolately.

"Make sure she's never alone and send for me if she has other episodes of contractions."

"I'll see to it, Doctor," Jarrod promised.

"And Jarrod? Get some rest, son, you're a mess. I'll come back tomorrow," the old family friend added thoughtfully.

As soon as he was gone, Jarrod rushed upstairs to the bedroom he shared with his spouse. Maria, their housemaid, rose from the chair that had been moved near the bed and left the room..

As usual, Emilie smiled as soon as she saw him. Alone in their bed, she looked so pale and helpless. Unable to utter an articulated sound just yet, he rushed to her, fell on his knees by the bed. "Jarrod, my love," she said faintly as he took her small hand in his and brought it to his cheek. She felt the warmth of his tears as her own tears stung her eyes. Jarrod kissed her on each finger. "Lillie," he finally whispered. "Oh, Lillie I was so scared," he confessed.

Lying in his bunk, Heath was blindly watching the ceiling, struggling with the memory of his last encounter with Sabrina Barkley in the barn.

 _She grasped his arm. "You don't have to be so shy, Heath. We Barkleys are open-minded people, especially me. We're not against getting acquainted with our employees."_

She was becoming more provocative with every passing day. He could constantly feel her eyes on him, and she wouldn't pass up any chance for touching him. She was beautiful, that was undeniable, but he couldn't help a sense of repulsion each time she was around. He didn't want to be there when Nick Barkley found out.

Nick Barkley, his unaware brother. While recognizing they were very different, or maybe for this very reason, he had felt an affinity with his older brother right from the start. He knew Nick was miserable, trapped in a dead end love. He wanted to shake him and make him see the truth about his wife. The problem was Nick Barkley clearly loved that woman and wouldn't listen to humble ranch hand Heath Thomson. _He wouldn't listen to his father's bastard son_. Besides, he was beginning to ask too many questions and Heath had run out of answers.

The time had come for him to ride away before that woman did as much as to ruin everything. Or before SHE – Victoria Barkley - recognized him. Her enquiring gaze literally pierced him each time he happened to be anywhere near her.

Heath had come to the ranch out of curiosity after his mother died and he had learned the truth. He just wanted to get to know them, his long-lost family.

But now, he had finally made up his mind, he would join Turk and leave.

Unexpectedly, a fierce sense of loss overwhelmed him.

\- 1 -


	10. Chapter 10

Armed with scissors, Victoria was in her portico gathering some fresh flowers for the dining table. Her rose bushes were lush and she lovingly caressed the fresh petals, bending to inhale deeply the cherished perfume. She chose the white roses, her favorite, and carefully searched for the ones with a wide-open corolla, sparing the delicate rosebud and their secret, undisclosed beauty. As she set herself upright to go back inside, the fresh cut flowers in her arms, she saw McNally lead Misty Girl toward the stables. He looked in her direction and nodded in salutation. She raised her hand and waved her greeting back at him, suddenly feeling like bursting into flames. _What is happening to you, Victoria? You're blushing like a schoolgirl_ Confused by her own reaction but determined to follow a sudden impulse, she laid the flowers on the nearby table and rushed down the portico steps.

Arriving at the door of the stables, she hesitated. _This is your last chance to behave properly, Victoria. Turn on your heels and go back to the house_ , her inner voice insisted. But, before she could change her mind, Victoria pushed with force and the door flung open. 

McNally raised up his head and froze for a moment seeing who was coming. He was down on one knee checking Misty Girl's legs.

"Is she alright?" Victoria asked, taking two steps inside.

"I… Good afternoon, Mrs. Barkley. I'm just checking to be sure you'll be safe next time you go riding," the foreman said quickly.

"That's very thoughtful of you, McNally," she said gratefully, walking across the straw-strewn floor to reach him.

"Her rear left leg is swollen," he informed.

"Oh, let me see," Victoria said, kneeling and sitting back on her heels beside him, trembling inside from his closeness.

"Here," McNally said taking her hand, guiding it to touch the mare's leg. His hand was warm and strong. Victoria's heart rejoiced at such a simple thing, at the touch of his hand wrapped around her own.

"Yes, I… I can feel it. Is it serious?" She asked worriedly.

"No, I think it's just some swelling due to lack of exercise, since you've been resting after… McNally's voice trailed off. "My poultice works wonders," he added reassuringly.

Misty Girl rumbled in protest for the prolonged touch and made a step backwards. They both laughed slightly and pulled back, but he didn't let go of her hand and she didn't try to break the contact. "Thank you," she just said, staring into the eyes she had so longed to see again. There they were, still the same, just like she remembered, kind, honest clear azure eyes.

An unspoken message, like pure energy, passed between them. He gently pulled her toward him. _What in the name of God are you doing?_ Victoria's inner voice asked, alarmed. But it was too late. Before she could answer, they were kissing. And it was sweet, consoling, and felt so right. It was like coming home.

"McNally!" Nick's booming voice called from outside, startling them and breaking the spell. Victoria was on her feet and to the door in no time, just a moment before Nick opened it.

"Mother! What are you doing here?"

"I was checking on Misty Girl, Nick. She has a swollen leg," she explained hoping her son didn't notice the flush of embarrassment on her fevered cheeks and her glossy eyes. Behind her, McNally was gathering a handful of straws from the floor.

"Is my mother's horse alright?" Nick enquired, addressing his foreman.

"I think it's just an edema, Nick," McNally offered, pouring some water from a wooden bucket on the straws he had gathered and pressing the wet straws between his hands. He then affixed the poultice on the mare's leg.

"She'll be alright, Mother, McNally's poultice works wonders," Nick said, using the same exact words his foreman had used a little time before and provoking his mother's hilarity. "What are you laughing at?" he asked, frowning.

"Nothing!" Victoria said, biting her lower lip. "Women." Nick shook his head. "McNally, Thomson is spending the night in the line shack on the east section. You and I will catch up with him tomorrow morning and see if we can track down that damn cougar. Uh, Sorry Mother."

"Alright Nick, I'll see you tomorrow. Good evening, Mrs. Barkley," McNally said.

"Good evening, McNally, and thank you," Victoria replied as her son took her by the elbow guiding her outside.

"I hope we're having chicken creole for dinner. I'm starving," McNally heard him say and chuckled to himself.

Heath chuckled visualizing his first encounter with Audra Barkley and the way she had assaulted him on Tom Barkley's grave with her riding whip.

 _Crouched by Tom Barkley's grave, Heath was so engrossed in his thoughts about the man he had never known that he didn't even hear the sound of approaching hooves._

Swish! _She hit him from behind, from up above her horse._

Swish! _The whip swished and hit him again. He tried to shield himself with his arms the best he could but there was no escape._ Swish! Swish! Swish! _Ten times in a row, unrelentingly._

 _After the initial surprise and confusion, Heath was surprised to discover a young blonde girl was the cause of all of it. She hit him with no pity, an expression of stubborn determination displayed on her face._

 _He took his chance and grabbed her by her waist, dragged her out of the saddle and to the ground._

 _They wrestled, entangled in one another, rolling in the dirt. She was still holding her horsewhip and wouldn't let go._

 _Finally, Heath pinned her to the ground, both hands holding her wrists. "For the love of…" He began, slightly amused, trying to hold her still._

" _Get off of me," she ordered._

" _A cat. A blond-haired, blue-eyed..."_

" _I'll feed you to the wolves. I'll cream you!" she threated. Heath couldn't help but laugh as the pretty blonde fury fought for her freedom. "You're hurting," she protested, still stubbornly holding the whip._

" _Drop it," he demanded._

 _When the girl finally obeyed, Heath took the whip and threw it away._

 _"I planted those flowers," she informed with disdain._

 _"So?"_

" _You were tramping on them. I saw you," she accused. "Who are you?"_

 _"I was about to ask you the same thing," he countered._

 _"I don't have to tell you that," she said indignantly. She stood and went to retrieve her whip._

" _No, ma'am, I guess you don't," Heath acknowledged._

 _"Audra Barkley," she declared proudly._

 _Of course, how had he missed it? She resembled him so closely… She was his sister._

 _You've gone soft, Heath Thomson_ , he said to himself, a slight smile still lingering on his lips.

The truth was the Barkleys, all of them, were good, loyal and proud people and rightly so. He was of a different cloth. He hadn't had the guidance of the strong hand of his father in the troubled years of his youth. He had had nothing at all. Tom Barkley wasn't there when, still a boy, he had come very close to stealing when he couldn't eat mud anymore. Tom Barkley hadn't been there when, not yet a man, he had joined the army, to serve in a war he couldn't understand.. That had been the end of his innocence.

Tomorrow he would go looking for Turk. The man used to appreciate Heath's ability with horses when they had worked together. _I can take Lloyd's place, Turk will be happy to have me_ , he reasoned. Turk never stayed in the same place very long. He kept moving. Just what Heath needed.

 _Why is it so hard?_ He didn't know, he just knew, for some mysterious reason, this time it was.

 _Sharon_.

The name echoed in his mind as if someone had whispered it in his ear. That name was almost all he knew about her. They had met on occasion of a barn ball where he didn't want to go. But the boys had insisted and the whole Barkley family had attended too. So, he had reluctantly gone. They had just looked at each other for a long time, until she had smiled that small shy smile he still dreamed of. So he had found the courage and asked her to dance. They had danced together for the rest of the night, her tiny body flying around in his arms like a graceful bird. She had told him his uncle and his people had arrived earlier that same year and had settled on a land about seventy miles south of the ranch. For some reason, since then Sharon and her tiny shy smile were dwellers of his heart and wouldn't leave.

 _You knew from the beginning it couldn't last._

 _Yes, but I didn't know them, yet._

Heath's smile died on his lips. He needed to get rid of those feelings.. He needed to get rid of any feelings toward the Barkleys, the girl, and anything connected with his staying at the ranch. It was a sad, but necessary evil, before Sabrina did something irreparable to the fragile yet precious ties he had been able to create with the Barkleys. Once he was gone, they would remember the ranch hand Heath Thomson, a hard worker and a good man.

With those thoughts in mind, Heath Thomson, Tom Barkley's bastard son, finally fell asleep.

That night, Sabrina waited for everyone else in the house to be fast asleep. The fear and the excitement about what she was going to do was making her head spin.

She silently put her boots on under her nightgown, stepped downstairs and snuck out of the house. The night smelled of wildness and it was pleasantly cold against her barely covered, fevered, burning skin.

She would ride up to the line shack where she had heard Heath would spend the night. She pulled her gown up to her flanks and climbed up on Jingo, sitting astride the animal's back, her own back upright, her thighs tightly pressed against the horse's flanks, savoring the feeling of anticipation of what was ahead.

That cowboy would learn a thing or two, that night.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: This chapter is a little risqué. You're warned.

Sabrina opened the door and snuck inside. The little room was folded in shadows. She adjusted her turquoise, almond shaped eyes to the darkness and took a look around. The room was poorly furnished. A table, a chair where Heath had tidily folded his clothes and, finally, the shape of his body lying under the blankets. By the steady movement of his chest, his breathing in and out, she could see the young handsome man was sound asleep.

Sabrina cautiously pulled up the blankets and took a long look at the naked body that laid underneath, licking her lips in anticipation. Her usually cold, arid heart was beating wildly, the pounding sound growing louder in her ears. She was sexually excited, the sense of danger exciting her even more. She had never felt so alive.

Following a sudden impulse, Sabrina quickly undressed. She took off the boots, struggled to free her arms from the sleeves and let her gown fall in an unshaped heap on the floor. She climbed over it and walked barefoot on her tiptoes back to the chair, the wooden floor squeaking under her steps. She took Heath's blue shirt, unbuttoned it and slipped her right arm through one of the sleeves. She breathed greedily Heath's manly scent from the collar and slowly let the air come out of her nose while slipping her left arm through the other sleeve. The shirt was abundantly too large for her. She embraced herself, her arms crossed over her breasts and her hands on her shoulders, enjoying the feeling of the rough cloth on her tender skin.

It was then that she felt it. Something hard in his shirt pocket. She shoved two slender fingers inside and pulled it out, a folded paper clipping. She unfolded it and rushed to the window to look at it in the moonlight, Heath's unbuttoned shirt flapping on her long, sculpted thighs.

On the paper, the all too well-known bearded face of the old Barkley patriarch looked back at her. She had seen that face so many times, looming on her from the grand portrait the Barkleys worshipped. Nick venerated his late father so blindly it made her sick. But, it couldn't be different with Nick, once you had his heart in your hands, it was forever. She smirked at the thought, Nick's heart was in her hands, and she was going to break it, rip it apart, rip it to shreds, grind it to dust.

Her eyes ran on the title.

"TOM BARKLEY SHOT TO DEATH

Whole Valley Mourns."

On the back of the paper, on the empty space of the border, someone had written something in a tiny, neat handwriting: "My dearest Heath, I honored my promise. Now you know who your father was.. I love you, my son. Leah Thomson."

What did those words mean? They didn't make any sense. A moan came from the bunk, and Sabrina turned her head to look at the young man lost in his dreams, unaware of her presence. Heath changed his position in his sleep and turned his face toward the window. As the pale moonlight made his features clear to see, Sabrina suck some air in her lungs, suddenly knowing what those words meant. It was so clear to see! The resemblance with Tom Barkley and, even more, with her young sister-in-law was uncanny. This man, this Heath Thomson, was Nick's brother, and he knew it! Oh, what a treasure she had found!

 _Wait until I tell Victoria_ , Sabrina hatefully thought. _Wait until she discovers her sainted husband was unfaithful_.

Heath moaned again, his lips opening slightly. At that sight, she felt a pleasant fit of lust. She was going to make love to no less than her brother-in-law. She didn't want to wait anymore. She reached her boots and let the paper clipping slip in one of them, then quickly dismissed Heath's shirt, dropped it on the floor and slipped underneath the covers. As she laid her hand on Heath's broad shoulder, the young man woke up with a start, his eyelids fluttering in confusion.

"What…?" He asked the naked stranger beside him.

"Shh, it's alright, Heath," Sabrina whispered, pressing her palm on his mouth, silencing him. "I'm here for you, you can do all that you want, I'm yours," she enticed with a sultry voice, slowly tracing circles on the man's chest with her fingernail.

As soon as he realized who she was, a wave of nausea surged over Heath. He quickly rose and gathered his shirt from the floor, his pants from the chair, began to quickly dress. "Go away, Mrs. Barkley. You shouldn't be here," he said coldly.

"You're wrong, Heath. I can go where I please. I am Nick Barkley's wife and this ranch belongs to me with anything that's on it, and yourself included," she informed with a smirk.

Heath's eyes turned cold ice. "Nobody owns me, Mrs. Barkley," he retorted. "I have no desire for you, ma'am. Now, go away," he added curtly.

Sabrina seethed, any trace of amicability disappeared from her face. "Don't you dare reject me one more time, Heath Thomson, or I'll tell my husband…" she threatened, gulping down the rest. She didn't want to reveal what she had discovered. Not yet.

"What? What will you tell him? That you snuck into one of his hire hands' bed in the middle of the night and offered yourself to him?" Heath challenged.

What happened then was so sudden and unexpected that Heath hadn't the time to react. The woman who was lying naked beside him turned into a beast. An animalistic growl formed in her throat as she violently hurled herself onto him, making him lose his balance and crumple on the floor.

She sat astride him and, with surprising force, pinned him there and sunk her nails into the tender skin of his jaw, making it bleed. "You just wasted your last chance, Heath Thomson," she hissed.

When she shut the door behind her, Heath was still sitting on the floor, a hand on his bleeding jaw. It burned as hell.

The night wind blew howling through the trees. As a cloud passed across the silver moon, an impenetrable shadow descended. In the complete darkness, a cougar shrieked with rage. Heath shivered.

After having tossed and turned for the umpteenth time, the man known as McNally gave up on trying to fall asleep and stepped outside the bunkhouse for a smoke.

The Barkley home was plunged into darkness. Everything was quiet. He went to the corral and Sky Flyer came trotting and greeted him pawing the ground with his forefeet. "Hey, pardner," the man addressed him amicably, as Sky Flyer nuzzled his hands looking for a treat. "That girl is spoiling you, isn't she?" he said showing his empty palms to the horse, who expressed his scorn with an eloquent neigh. The horse was certainly ready to be ridden by Audra, Lloyd had done commendable work with him, but Nick hadn't given his permission yet.

Since he was awake, he would go check Misty Girl, hoping her leg had improved.

 _An unspoken message, like pure energy, passed between them. He gently pulled her toward him and they were kissing._

The image crossed his mind and sunk into his being, exploding in his heart. He had been intrigued from the beginning. She was intelligent, good looking and all-around a fine lady, but he knew there was more, much more. The day he had had a chance to look into the intensity of her grey eyes, he had seen the depth of her heart. Their souls had connected, that day, and known each other. After their kiss that same afternoon, he had finally realized he had helplessly, completely fallen in love with Victoria Barkley and that there was no coming back. It wasn't planned and it wasn't expected, but it had happened and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He just needed to keep things pretty well separated.

 _She doesn't even know who you really are._

 _But she knows the important part, she knows my soul._

 _You're cheating on her and on the whole family._

 _Isn't this what makes America a great country? That it doesn't matter who you are or where you come from?_

Leaning on the corral fence, McNally was deep in thoughts when his alerted senses perceived a sound of hooves.. He turned his head and was surprised to see the woman he had been following for a whole year now ride toward the stables in the middle of the night. She was obviously coming back from somewhere, wearing just her nightgown and her riding boots. His mind reluctantly let go of Victoria to focus on Sabrina Barkley. According to his investigations, she and her partner and lover Jack Floyd were guilty of many crimes. To find them, he had followed the blood trail the couple had left behind. Their victims had been dozens before Nick Barkley had finally shot Floyd dead. Since then, Sabrina had been irreproachable, but he knew she was as guilty as sin. She had personally pulled the trigger and committed several killings in cold blood, that of his friend, Marshal Frank Sawyer, included.

He calmly filled the bowl of the briar wood pipe he had inherited from his father with some tobacco he retrieved from a leather bag.

 _I've not enough evidence to put a rope around your neck, Sabrina Lynn Barkley, but I'm more than determined to make sure you spend the rest of your life in San Quentin_ , he thought as he calmly pressed the tobacco lightly down with a brass tamper that quickly disappeared inside his vest pocket. He struck a wooden match and let it burn for a few seconds, then lit his pipe and gently inhaled while striking another match, repeating the whole operation until the aromatic smoke permeated the air around him.

The man gave several puffs. "All I need is a smoking gun," he murmured, as his keen eyes followed the woman as she ran to cover the distance from the stable to the front porch. She quickly disappeared inside the house as he finally dragged deeply on his pipe. God only knew what she had done, or what she had in mind to do.

\- 1 -


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note. I really struggled about the character I'm introducing in this chapter, who is inspired by my daddy, whom I miss dearly. I changed my mind three times before I decided I'd actually do that and I'm still conflicted. I changed the character's last name because I wanted to honor the memory of the great Italian film director Sergio Leone ('The Good, the Bad and the Ugly', 'Once Upon a Time in the West', 'A Fistful of Dollars', etc.). My father was a huge admirer of Leone's work, they were more or less the same age, were from the same town (Rome, Italy), and shared the first name. Although under very different circumstances, my father had all the characteristics, physical and moral, described in the chapter.

 **Chapter 12**

 _From his table, Sergio witnessed the whole scene._

 _A man made his appearance inside the saloon. He was tall, unshaven, greasy locks of his dirty, too long hair falling wildly across his forehead. And visibly drunk. At the same time, the young marshal deputy – a boy no more than eighteen Sergio had already seen around – was walking out._

 _Fatally, the two bumped into each other._

" _Why don't you look where you're going?" The drunkard asked brusquely._

" _I'm… I'm sorry," the boy apologized, making another step forward. But he never made it to the batwing doors, as the madman seized his arm with both hands and hurled him back inside, making him bump into the counter._

" _I think you owe me a drink!" he spluttered angrily._

 _The young man sighed. "You're drunk," he noticed with disgust._

" _Oh oh, oh, maybe so, maybe so," the man confirmed nodding, baring his teeth in a wild, hateful grin. "Could I have had me so much drink I can't handle a biiig man like you?" He asked, showing how big with his open arms. "So, if you ain't just wearing that gunbelt to hold up your badge, you and me is gonna step outside," he challenged, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, his grin widening, his eyes shining maliciously._

 _The boy obviously didn't want that confrontation. "Excuse me," he said, his eyes low, starting to walk away. But, he hadn't the time to take a step: the drunkard hit him full force across the face with the back of his hand. The boy fell down to the floor and, while he was there on his hands and knees, the drunkard kicked him hard in his stomach, his long arms outstretched for balance._

 _Sergio wasn't looking for trouble, but he couldn't sit back and do nothing any longer. He tossed the chair aside and dropped to the boy, helped him on his feet. As he prepared to strike his first blow, the drunkard drew his gun. "Stay out of this, cowboy," he threatened._

" _Drop it," a calm voice commanded. The drunkard turned his head to realize he was on the wrong end of Marshal Fred Sawyer's gun._

What Nick didn't know about his foreman was that the man's name wasn't McNally, but Leonetti. Sergio Leonetti, born in Italy but come to America more years ago than he cared to remember. Unlike most immigrants, he hadn't come to America to escape poverty, but to satisfy his lively curiosity. It had been his precise choice. His family belonging to the middle class, Sergio had had a good education. A quick learner, a short while after his arrival he had acquired an excellent command of the language and, thanks to the fact that he didn't have the looks of an immigrant with his fair hair, light blue eyes, body structure and the strength of an athlete, he had been spared from the discrimination and prejudice many other Italians had suffered.

From Ellis Island, he arrived in California eager to take part in the gold rush a year before California was even a state. He was one of the hundreds of thousands of people known as the "forty-niners". Within just one year, most of the gold on the surface was picked clean and, after a couple of more years, the gold reserves got thinner and harder to reach. By 1853, Sergio's career as a gold seeker was over.

He arrived in the town of Jubilee looking for a job when Marshal Frank Sawyer saved his life in a saloon. Although he had never fired his gun if not in self-defense and had never strayed far from the right side of the law, Sergio's skills with a gun had gained him a reputation, and several enemies, Jack Floyd included. Sawyer recognized Sergio's potential right away, nerves of steel that allowed him to handle any situation and at the same time, a fast draw and a deadly shot. Sergio signed up as deputy and since then, he put his skills at the service of the United States Marshals Service. Together, he and Sawyer defeated the infamous Simpson Gang and their deeds of valor became legendary.

One dreadful day, Sergio was out of town to deliver a prisoner, when Jack Floyd and Sabrina Lynn came to settle the old score. But they found Frank Sawyer, instead.

From Frank Sawyer's last words, as he was dying in his arms, Sergio figured out who had pulled the trigger. Sergio's hot Italian blood boiled, thirsting not for revenge, but for justice.

 _I'm just this close. I know she's up to something. A leopard can't change its spots._

Working for Nick as an undercover agent, Sergio had found he was a natural born cowboy. As with many other things that seemed to come naturally to him, he just happened to be good at it and had earned the title of foreman in a very short time. But, he wasn't a cowboy. He wasn't a rancher. He wasn't anything like Tom Barkley. That man had been a real pioneer and had been able to build an empire.

 _You can't expect a lady like Victoria Barkley to lead such a life as yours. Don't think she would follow you or would accept being the wife of a humble lawman, whose life is constantly in danger. Or the wife of an Italian immigrant._

Sergio sighed. At the moment, he just needed to get the job done.

Two attentive, concerned gray eyes followed the stranger who lived under her roof, cross the foyer and rush upstairs in nightgown and boots. In her own nightgown, Victoria silently went back to the living room and stood by the fireplace, watching without seeing the smoldering ashes.

She had spent most of the night thinking about the kiss she and McNally had shared, the scene playing over and over in her head. She hadn't known her heart was starving, until she hadn't fed it.

But now, it was Nick she was worried about. He needed help. She turned her eyes toward the very thing she had avoided the whole day, the portrait above the mantle. "Oh, Tom, I'm so worried about Nick. What has our son gotten himself into marrying that woman? Oh, Tom please, please talk to me" she pleaded, as the tears she had been holding finally breached the dam.

Tom Barkley's portrait remained silent, like it always did.

 _You're just tormenting yourself, Victoria. Go to bed, sleep on it._

Victoria had reached the second floor when Audra came home from her evening out with Lloyd. She hadn't meant to overhear but, from the upstairs landing, she witnessed the couple's exchange at the front door.

"It's been a wonderful evening," Audra's breathed with a dreamy voice.

"For me too, Audra. I'll see you tomorrow," came Lloyd's reply. He took her hand and gently kissed her fingertips.

"Until tomorrow," he said.

"Good night." Audra closed the door and leaned on it, closing her eyes, a smile of complete, absolute happiness on her face. She had arranged her hair in a loose bun, soft curls delicately framing her face. She reached up her hand and took off the pearl hairpin so that her hair fell on her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She gracefully traced out some dance steps across the foyer, humming a waltz. Victoria thought that if happiness had a face, that had to be Audra's.

"Audra?" She called her daughter beginning to descend the staircase as Audra began to climb it. They met in the middle. "Did you have a nice time?"

"Oh, wonderful. Mother? Lloyd proposed to me tonight."

Victoria embraced her daughter. "I'm happy for you, darling."

As the first rays penetrated through the curtains, Audra stretched her legs in her bed, shreds of a sweet dream still behind her eyelids, so close yet out of reach. Her eyes still closed, she smiled at the memory of her new happiness and sighed, lazily savoring the warmth beneath her sheets. Five minutes more. Five minutes more, to remember every minute of the previous day, every little precious moment necessary to fill the void until they'd meet again.

Audra embraced her pillow with the sudden desire to be with him physically, craving his touch, a sweet pain coming from the very core of her being making her breath hasten in yearning. She had never, ever felt that way before. She didn't even fully understand what her body was telling her.

Audra rolled over onto her back, shoved the sheets aside, opened her eyes and smiled, a brand new day was ready to be lived, full of possibilities like a book yet to be written.

Audra Barkley was ready to rise into her new life.


	13. Chapter 13

Out of the window, the sun was timidly beginning to rise as Victoria sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup in her hand. She loved to indulge in the simple intimacy of her kitchen, it helped her think. The aroma of the freshly made coffee was lingering in the small room together with the memories of the previous day.

It had been like being born again, like if her blood had been frozen for the last four years and now it was flowing again, warming her up, making her feel herself again. It was like, since Tom's death, she had suspended her life, and now she was beginning to savor it again.

Victoria shifted uncomfortably in her chair, crossed her legs and sighed. She sipped from her cup, trying to divert her thoughts from that dangerous direction.

As it came to her mind, she welcomed the image of her young daughter and smiled at the love emanating out of her being like a dazzling light.

 _Our children are all grown up, Tom._

Jarrod's baby was due for the upcoming April. She hoped they would consider coming to live at the ranch. She wanted to enjoy the new life and all the wonders it would bring.

Victoria sighed, her heart open wide, vibrating and yearning for something. She was so ready to give her love again to someone. She was so ready to be a grandmother.

She was so ready to love and be loved again.

 _I will love you until my last breath, Tom Barkley. No one will ever take your place. But I'm still alive, do you understand? I'm still alive._

But there was something else, something that had been bothering her for hours stealing her sleep.

 _Two attentive, concerned gray eyes followed the stranger who lived under her roof, cross the foyer and rush upstairs in nightgown and boots._

The memory of that horrible woman sneaking inside like a thief was disgusting.

"Morning, Mother," Nick's voice said. "You're up early," he noted bending to lay a light kiss on her cheekbone.

"Good morning, Nick." Her eyes followed him as he took the kettle and poured himself a cup of coffee.

By his rigid stance and sullen expression, it was clear something was tormenting him. She resisted the urge to take him in her arms and console him like she did when he was a child, when he'd crawl up on her lap asking her to kiss his booboo. She wished it was as easy now.

Without another word, his cup in his hand, Nick went by the window and his gaze drifted idly outside. The light of the rising sun was fighting its way through the shadows of the dying night. He had left his wife asleep on their bed and had come downstairs to escape his misery. He needed to think straight.

Sabrina had cunningly avoided a confrontation this time, taking advantage of his weakness. She had been refusing his marital attentions for weeks now, and he hadn't been able to resist her advances.

 _The sight of his wife all tousled and dirty was almost more than Nick could handle._

 _She sneaked into the room, removed her boots, grabbed some clean towels from the top of the drawer and turned to walk out again, probably directed to the bathroom._

" _Where have you been?" Nick asked in a somber voice. She jumped for the surprise and turned her head to look at him, his eyes were cold as ice under his furrowed eyebrows.._

" _None of your business, I just need a bath," she replied insolently and turned toward the door._

 _Nick was out of the bed in his long johns and by her side in one long stride. He grabbed her wrist. "This is all of my business, you shameless Now, tell me," he insisted menacingly._

" _No!" she yelled in his face, thrashing around trying to free herself. Nick turned her wrist and she cried in pain._

" _Tell me where you've been, Sabrina," he pressed as she jerked and jolted, gasping and wheezing. Nick's grip on her was iron._

" _I have nothing to tell you," she growled. Her hair smelled of horse and sweat. "You know what? You really need a bath," he said beginning to drag her outside their bedroom by her wrist._

" _No!" She yelled, suddenly changing her mind about her ablution, clinging to the door jamb. But there was little she could do against Nick. With a firm yank, he hurled her outside the room. She cried out and let herself fall on her bottom. With his free hand, Nick grabbed a handful of her hair and dragged her to the bathroom._

 _Once inside, he turned the key to lock the door. He heard his mother and Audra's voices and steps and pressed his hand on Sabrina's mouth, expecting to be bitten at any moment. The room was filled with water vapor from the large tin basin Sabrina had already put on the coal stove for her bath._

 _When Nick heard his mother and sister's voices as they kissed good night and the sound of their doors closing, he turned his eyes on her. She had stopped fighting and was breathing heavily from her nose, her mouth still covered by his hand._

 _He suddenly realized he was tired like never before in his life.. With a deep sigh, he let go of her, leaned on the wall and let himself slide down until they were sitting one in front of the other on the floor, both panting for the exhaustion of fighting each other._

 _In the foggy room, Sabrina got on her feet and got rid of her nightgown in one smooth movement, under Nick's mesmerized eyes._

 _Without talking, she then took his hand and helped him to his feet. When she began to slowly undress him, Nick's desire for her had already intoxicated every cell of his body and of his mind._

Nick realized that despite himself, the memory still had the power to awaken his desire. Sabrina was a beautiful, charming, captivating vampire, and he had been wrapped around her little finger like a puppet all this time.

When he had woken up that morning, she was talking in her sleep.. She was calling the name of another man.

 _Jack. Oh, Jack, Jack… Jack…_

She had whispered that name again and again with such lasciviousness, with such apparent obscene carnal desire it had turned Nick's stomach.

The memory was too fresh to be ignored, and Nick's mind went blank, jealousy and betrayal overwhelming his whole being. She was a cheater and a liar. Time had come for him to escape her velvet trap.

"Nick," his mother's voice reached his ears, as she lightly touched his shoulder with her small, loving hand. He had even forgotten she was in the room with him. He turned his head and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Nick, what is bothering you?"

 _She doesn't love me, mother, she never did._

He opened his mouth and found he was unable to speak, a lump suddenly forming in his throat, choking him. He just licked his dry lips and shook his head.

Victoria gently took the cup from Nick's hands. "Your coffee is cold," she said thoughtfully. She emptied the content in the sink and poured some fresh coffee. Nick took the refilled cup from her hands and nodded his thanks, grateful for her discretion.

They kept silent for a while, both quietly sipping their coffee.

"Nick, is it about Sabrina?", she asked tactfully after a few minutes.

Nick swallowed a sob, his hazel eyes turning green with unshed tears as the relief washed over him. His formidable mother already knew.

"Actually yes, it is, Mother," he admitted ruefully.

\- 1 -


	14. Chapter 14

"Francie, stop it!" the man yelled, as the dark-haired woman hit her target for the first time. He dismounted and rushed to her, grabbed her by her arm but it was too late, Heath ducked but he wasn't fast enough to avoid the second impact. "Ouch!" he cried out as something hit him hard on his left shoulder.

"Stop it!" he insisted, grabbing the girl's other arm and holding both of them behind her back with a certain effort, as she jerked frantically.

"Leave me be Turk, I want to kill him," she seethed.

Turk was a man of average height but strongly built, as his unbuttoned shirt revealed. He wore a tan worn out Stetson, a red handkerchief around his neck and chaps. "Cool down, now, honey," he soothed... "Please?"

Rubbing the side of his head where the first blown had hit him and a painful lump was already growing, Heath bent to examine what the girl had thrown at him. _Canned beans, canned beef… the main course of their next meal, very likely._

With a last tug, Francie freed herself. Apparently calmer, she put both hands on her hips and peered down at him with wild eyes. "Well? I'm waiting!" She pressed.

"Wa… waiting for what?" Heath muttered, knowing all too well what she meant.

"For the explanation you owe me for what you did, Thomson," she clarified.

As his old companions stood there in silence, waiting, Heath's mind went back to his last trip to Strawberry.

 _He blindly watched her name on the tombstone, his hand clutching her bible, and the paper clipping that was inside he held so tightly his knuckles were white. All that was left of her. He pressed his eyelids shut and let his tears flow._

"I apologize, Francie. I went to Strawberry and I had to go before I changed my mind.. I wanted to see… you know… my… But it was too late," he informed, trying without success to sound aloof.

 _It was too late. Too late to give her back her joy. He would never hear her laughter again._

Francie dropped her eyes and hung her head sorrowfully.. Without a word, she closed the distance between herself and her former boyfriend and hugged him.

"I'm sorry, Heath," she whispered.

Heath hugged her back, grateful for the surprising warmth his old friend's touch brought to his wounded heart.

As they parted, Turk passed his arm around Francie's waist, as to make clear to whom the woman belonged, now. She laid her head on the man's shoulder as Heath nodded in acknowledgement. The image of a girl dancing, _her tiny body flying around in his arms like a graceful bird_ , passed by almost unnoticed across the corner of his mind.

In the meantime, Turk's men had formed a murmuring circle around them. "Hey, Thomson," one of them greeted, and soon others joined in. Heath nodded at them gratefully. Once, for a while, these men had been like a family to him. He had almost forgotten what it meant to belong.

"It's been a long time, Thomson," Turk greeted in turn. "Something we can do for you?"

"I hope so. I need a job, Turk," Heath said straightly.

"You're lucky, Thomson, it just so happens that we're a man short," Turk said with a broad smile, offering his hand.

Sabrina unfolded the paper clipping and studied it. She didn't really need to read, she knew each word by heart, but reading and pronouncing them was a new kind of pleasure she had just discovered.

Sabrina's mouth moved in unison with her eyes as they ran over the words Thomson's mother had written.

"My dearest Heath, I honored my promise. Now you know who your father was. I love you, my son. Leah Thomson."

She smiled wryly. _Leah Thomson, Tom Barkley's mistress.._

A light knock on the door made her jump and she quickly put the clipping between her breasts.

"Mr. Nick is waiting for you in the dining room, Ma'am," Silas politely announced.

"Thank you, Silas, I'll be right there," she replied.

 _You will be avenged, my love, I promise._

Shaking hands with Turk, Heath felt a part of his life was definitely over. In that very moment, all the lies he had been telling himself dropped away and he finally saw the truth, his heart was broken. It was broken because he was leaving his father's family. Because he enjoyed working with Nick. Because he enjoyed talking with Audra.

 _It's over. You will never see them again and you better get it through that thick head of yours. The sooner you forget them, the better._

As expected, Turk had told him they were moving on tomorrow with the first light, and it was just what he needed. He just wanted to forget. Forget about his father's family and what they already meant to him. Forget about Sabrina and what she was doing to Nick.

Forget about his mother's death.

Forget about his father's desertion and what it had done to him and his mother.

 _The cabin that was their home was small and poorly furnished, but clean and neat. From the chair where she had collapsed after a long day slaving in her brother's hotel, Leah sighed in tiredness and despair. She had been swallowing her pride all day long - Martha had been particularly hateful that day – and Heath had assaulted her as soon as she had set foot in her home. She just didn't have the strength to fight with her fourteen year old boy. Not again, not that day. She felt the well-known sting in her eyes. Her old friends, tears, were fighting their way to the surface._

" _Heath, please, love, try to understand," she begged. The boy who once had been her only solace was now before her, angry, deaf to her pleas._

" _You! You try to understand," Heath snapped. "Can't you see I need to know? Please, tell me," the boy insisted._

" _Shut up!" A voice commanded. They hadn't heard her walk in the room, but now Hannah was standing there, the candid white apron on her brown dress, a basket with their laundry under her arm. Heath turned his head at the blunt words and winced at what he saw, the woman's usually warm, gentle brown eyes were now piercing him from under furrowed brows._

" _Show a little respect, boy. This is your mother," she scolded tersely._

" _I… I can't," the boy yelled. Feeling his own tears make their way toward his eyes, he turned to leave. He didn't want to show them how weak he was, how easily hurt. How much a little boy he still was._

 _Leah rose from the chair, reached out and laid a trembling hand on the boy's arm, feebly grabbed his sleeve._

" _Heath…"_

 _The boy yanked angrily and freed himself. Leah realized there was nothing she could do or say, no reasoning nor pleading, he wouldn't listen. She knew the price she was going to pay for her silence was high… too high. She knew she was going to lose the son she loved above anything else, and she braced herself for the unavoidable._

 _Heath sniffed back his tears and swallowed hard. His mother looked so much older than her age. Her beautiful, once lively eyes were now immensely sad. He was the one who had put that sadness there. His heart ached in regret at the very thought, but he had decided not to listen to his heart. He needed to do what needed to be done, or he wouldn't survive._

 _Heath sighed and softened his tone. "I never asked you anything. This is the only thing I want, the only thing I ever wanted. In the name of God, mama, for the last time. Please, tell me who I am. Please, tell me who my father is."_

 _Leah shook her head forlornly. "I can't… I can't. But I promise you this one thing, Heath, I won't take my secret to the grave. I will tell you who your father is before my time has come. I promise… Heath!"_

But the boy wasn't there anymore. In Hannah's arms, Leah cried bitterly all the tears she had left.

The day after, Heath joined the army.. After the war, he drifted around aimlessly, without a place to go, sick in his body and in his soul, feeling alone in the world. He did any kind of job – cowboy, miner, even deputy marshal – until he joined the mustangers and the girl by the name of Francie reminded him how much he really loved his mama. That he had never stopped loving her and how much he still needed her.

She died before he could drop down at her feet asking for forgiveness, but she had kept her promise.

Heath touched his shirt's pocket and realized it was empty.

\- 1 -


	15. Chapter 15

Sabrina Lynn Barkley was in a good mood. She had enjoyed her secret rendezvous with Nick last night. He had been man enough to face her, even hurt her. She didn't mind a little pain, on the contrary, she had appreciated him being a real man for a change.

Later, she had been once again in Jack's arms in her dreams, and it had been like being in heaven. As soon as she had woken up, she had played with her newest toy, Leah Thomson's last message to that bastard son of hers.

She was ready to show to her lovely family who Tom Barkley really was.

 _Oh, it will be like a bolt from the blue. I will wait for Jarrod to be home with that tramp wife of his. The high and mighty royal mistress. I want them to yell, argue, fight._

"Where is everybody?" she asked almost cheerfully as Nick stepped behind her and pulled the chair out as she was preparing to take her seat.. As he seated in turn in front of her, Sabrina reached for the candid linen napkin, snapped it open, and placed it over her lap. She didn't notice Nick wasn't doing the same.

"Audra went riding, Mother excused herself, she couldn't sleep last night," Nick replied as Silas served Sabrina a hearty portion of scrambled eggs and ham.

Too famished after her nightly adventures, Sabrina didn't notice Nick's cold tone. She took her fork and knife and started cutting her ham. She finally tasted the first morsel, just a bite to begin with. _Mmm, delicious_.

"Some more ham, Mrs. Sabrina?" The Barkleys' butler asked politely. "No, thank you, Silas," she replied without even glancing at him, her attention focused on her plate. "Well, we didn't sleep that much either, now did we?" she purred allusively, leering across the table at Nick, just to meet her husband's icy gaze. His lips pressed together in a thin line, the muscle in his jaw jolting, he was dark and somber like she had never seen him before.

Nick Barkley was a tough, tall, strong man. Above all, he could be dangerous. And he was clearly furious.

She felt a shiver run through her back.

"Silas, would you leave us, please?" Nick asked flatly, still holding her eyes.

"Yes, Mr. Nick," the older man promptly agreed.

As soon as Silas was out of the room, Nick exhaled noisily from his nose. "We need to talk, Sabrina," he announced.

Sabrina lowered her gaze to her plate and proceeded to briskly cut her ham. The fear she had felt a few moments before had rapidly shaded into something else. This was the man who had killed Jack. This was the man she hated. This was the man she would do anything to hurt the worst way she could.

"Sabrina, I want your attention," Nick insisted, raising his voice.

At the lack of a response, he reached across the table, grabbed both her forearms and squeezed, making her lose her grip on the cutlery. At the sharp sound of the silverware dropping on the plate, he rose from his chair and gloomed on her across the table, still holding her forearms and eyes steadily.

"Who is Jack, and where have you gone in the middle of the night? Tell me, I want to know," he growled menacingly, very close to her face.

"Take your hands off me," she growled back, her eyes narrowing to slits.

 _Tell him, tell him now._

 _No, I'm waiting for my best chance. Not yet._

Sabrina bit her lower lip to stop her tongue from revealing what she had learned about Nick's father. A blood drop formed where her tooth penetrated the tender skin.

"Leave her be, Nick," Victoria's voice commanded authoritatively from behind her.

Nick didn't raise his eyes to his mother nor loosened his hold on Sabrina just yet. Under his eyes, the blood drop slowly rolled down Sabrina's chin, fell dramatically on the perfectly white linen tablecloth and quickly spread.

"Nick!" Victoria urged.

Reluctantly, Nick obeyed. Sabrina pushed back her chair and rose abruptly, her eyes burning with hate.

As she turned to leave, she found herself face to face with her mother-in-law, who was standing in her way. Victoria Barkley was a diminutive woman, significantly shorter than Sabrina. Nonetheless, wrapped in her gold silk robe, Victoria seemed to be looking down at her, an expression of disgust on her regal face.

"You're always on a pedestal, aren't you," Sabrina addressed her sullenly. Oh, how she hated her. She savagely hated Victoria Barkley and the whole Barkley family.

"Shut up, you little…" Nick started menacingly, but his mother held her hand up as to shush him.

Then Victoria spoke to the woman in front of her. Her tone was low, almost guttural. She spoke slowly stressing each syllable to make sure she understood clearly.

"Sabrina Barkley, you are the worst thing that ever happened to my son and to this family. I curse the day he had the misfortune to meet you."

Each icy word was like a slap on Sabrina's face.. The hate rushed through her veins like venom altering her perceptions, blurring her vision and making her ears buzz. It was like a living creature, a demon possessing her. She was one with her hate.

"You Barkleys think you're perfect, don't you? Well, I've got news for you, sooner than you think, you'll be drowning in the mud," Sabrina announced wrathfully. Here's to the Barkley name, she yelled and, under Nick and Victoria's astonished eyes, she spat on the floor, her eyes never leaving her mother-in-law's, a challenging smirk on her face.

Victoria was imperturbable. Once again, she held her hand up to restrain Nick from doing or saying anything. "It's our name, it's a good name, and we wear it proudly."

"Be proud of this, then," Sabrina said as she retrieved the paper clipping from between her breasts, opened it and waved it in front of Victoria's eyes.

"Take your precious name back, I don't know what to do with it," Sabrina challenged, as she theatrically threw the paper at Victoria's feet. As the older woman bent to pick it up, Sabrina walked away.

* * *

Jarrod laid the paper down on his desk, his deep blue eyes fixed the space in front of him, under his wife's worried gaze. He didn't say anything, but his concern was written all over his face, in the lines that had formed on his forehead, in the downward corners of his mouth.

Suddenly aware of Emilie eyes on him, Jarrod collected himself and rose from the chair. He smiled his warm, fond smile at her and sat on the bed where Emilie was confined.

"Well? What is it?" She asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure… It just said my presence is urgently needed for both legal and family matters. Whatever it was, they didn't want the employee to know what it was all about," he recounted pensively.

"You need to go with the first train tomorrow," Emilie affirmed with no hesitation.

Jarrod turned his head to look at the woman he adored, his heart melting at her thoughtfulness. "Oh, no, I'm not going anywhere, Lilly. My place is here with you," he declared.

He placed his hand on her belly and the baby promptly leaped, making him chuckle. He could swear their unborn child recognized his touch. "With you and our baby," he corrected.

Emilie put her own hand on Jarrod's, brushing it with her thumb. "Nonsense, Jarrod. You don't have to delay your trip to Stockton on my account. Muriel will be happy to come and stay with me until you're back. Doctor Morley is coming tomorrow morning to visit me and I will arrange for her to come over here the same day. Your family needs you, you have to go," she said in a tone that admitted no argument.

"That would be very kind of Muriel, Lily, but I'm not going to leave you. Not now, not tomorrow and not ever," Jarrod replied. "Mother doesn't know about your contractions, yet. I'll send an urgent wire tomorrow morning, she'll understand," he stated.

"Jarrod, Muriel Morley is more than capable, you know that," Emilie stated. "Come closer, my love, I have something to tell you," she added a little mischievously. Jarrod smiled and moved on their bed, passing an arm around her shoulders. Emily adjusted against his strong body, feeling safe in his warmth. "He confided in me that, after all these years, she's even better than him as a physician," she whispered into Jarrod's hear.

Jarrod burst into a laughter and squeezed her. "You're really something, Mrs. Barkley," he said fondly.


	16. Chapter 16

The woman by the name of Sabrina Lynn Barkley was more like a caged beast than the lady she was supposed to be. She restlessly paced back and forth the whole perimeter of the room, her shoes creaking as she carelessly crushed shreds of broken glass covering the floor. She screamed out in anger and frustration, it was not supposed to happen like that, it just wasn't meant to be that way, it wasn't what she had planned.

Her eyes scanned what once had been the bedroom she shared with Nick Barkley. In her growing frustration for the way things had gone, Sabrina had unleashed her wrath against anything at hand.

In the undefined time she had spent in self-imprisonment, Nick had repeatedly tried to break through her defenses. He had yelled, threatened, implored to let him in. At her obstinate muteness, he had announced a divorce. She hadn't heard from him since.

Like a castaway, she contemplated the debris of her broken marriage. Her gaze laid on what once had been their bed, where just a few days ago she and Nick had consumed their torrid passion. The pillows had been ripped like paper with a knife, the stuffing pulled out and scattered around in a fluffy mess, the linen sheets ripped to rags and amassed in a shapeless heap on the floor, Her vanity's drawers were all open, the mirror broken. She pointlessly glowered at her own half mirrored face in disapproval.

 _I'm hungry._

She had willingly trapped herself in that room two or three days ago, she wasn't sure. At a certain point, things got confused. After all, she had barely slept and eaten nothing all this time. In order to survive, she had drunk from the wash pitcher and used the basin to empty her bladder.

 _I'm hungry!_

Sabrina's eyes lit up at a sudden idea. She rushed to the writing desk, cluttered with Nick's papers and the leather desk set Jarrod had given him for his birthday, rapidly got rid of them with the back of her hand, unceremoniously knocking everything on the floor, the inkwell spilling the black liquid on the Persian carpet.

She opened the desk top and inside found what she was she was looking for, the Richard Cadbury heart-shaped box of chocolates her husband had given her for their first Valentine's Day, one of his many ridiculous attempts to conquer her heart. She had put them there and completely forgotten about it.

Sabrina feverishly opened the box and there they were, more enticing than Silas' fried chicken, more precious than the pearl necklace received for the same occasion, the one she had mercilessly destroyed a few hours before. She brought a handful of chocolate to her mouth and stuffed it with sweet, creamy perfection.

 _Divine._

She barely chewed, greedily gobbling down every chocolate down to the last. Once she was completely full, she sighed in satisfaction. She turned her head and once again watched her image in what was left of her vanity mirror, laughed at the chocolate mustache on her upper lip, wiped it away with her sleeve. She went to the vanity to take a closer look.

She was a mess.

 _Don't you see what you're reduced to? This is Nick's fault. He took everything away from you._

 _I still have my dignity, my pride._

 _Eating chocolate and making fun of yourself?_

 _I still have Jack._

 _Jack is dead._

 _SHUT UP!_

 _He's dead because Nick Barkley killed him. You know what you have to do._

 _Yes, I know._

She abruptly went to the wardrobe and retrieved the small pine trunk that belonged to her father, the only thing from her past life she had taken with her when she had become Mrs. Nick Barkley. Inside, there were the few mementos her beloved parent had left her. She was just eleven when he had died, leaving a void in her heart only Jack had been able to fill. She took the fortune bells he had brought back from India, contemplated them for a little while, then put them on the floor and rapidly emptied the trunk. She opened the false bottom to reveal a hidden compartment, where two bundles laid. They were still there where she had put them, enveloped in linen sheets. As she slowly undid the first one, something very dear to her heart appeared, Jack's Colt revolver. Its intrinsic beauty shone in her hands as she caressed the handle, tracing with her fingerprints the nacre inlay.

"Hello darling," Sabrina greeted in a husky voice. She reverently put it down to undo the smaller package, her own small Derringer. Because of its small size, it was only accurate at close range. She had loved that closeness with her victims.

It seemed like yesterday, the last time she had used it to shoot dead that Sawyer marshal. She didn't know him or care about him one bit. He wasn't even whom they had come for. Yet shooting him, her bullet penetrating his flash, his blood flowing through the wound she had provoked, had created a sort of bond between them. In that moment, when she had deathly violated his body, they had been intimate. He was still breathing when they had left, slowly dying from exsanguination.

She didn't even know most of the people she had killed. Nonetheless, the very moment the light started to leave their dying eyes, she had always experimented a feeling of closeness, almost sensual.

 _Imagine how it would be, taking Nick's life. Being alone with him, held in his strong arms, look him in those intense, beguiling hazel eyes and pulling the trigger._

Sabrina licked her upper lip in anticipation. It was Nick Barkley's turn to taste the bite of her bullet.

She laid down the Derringer and took back Jack's Colt. That was undoubtedly the best choice. This time she was alone and she didn't know how far she would be from her target. Besides, using Jack's gun to kill the man who had killed him, made her revenge perfection.

 _There will be no return, you know that._

 _I know. My life without Jack has no reason to be. I have nothing left to lose. I want Nick Barkley dead, and I want to be the one who snatches him from life, no matter if I die in the process._

* * *

A very concerned Jarrod rushed inside, dropped his luggage and went to embrace his mother.

"Jarrod! Oh, Jarrod, thank goodness you're here!" Victoria greeted her eldest son, tiptoeing to get to kiss him on his cheek, as he enveloped her in his arms.

"I missed you very much, Lovely Lady," he said warmly.

"Oh, darling, I missed you too," Victoria said, as her heart melted at Jarrod's gallantry. "Where is Emilie?" She asked, gazing past his shoulders to see if she was coming.

"Emilie excuses herself, but the doctor said she'd better not travel in her condition. She has had some contractions that had him worried," Jarrod explained.

"Oh, Jarrod you shouldn't have left her!" Victoria complained, lines of concern immediately forming between her brows.

"There was no way I could convince her, Mother. She can be more stubborn than brother Nick, at times. Don't worry, she's in good hands." Jarrod said as his keen eyes took in his mother's distress at a glance. She had a helpless look about her, something he could not define. "Tell me, what is it? Is it Audra?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, no, nothing like that. Won't you come to the study, Nick and Audra are there and we need to talk."

Audra rose from the settee and went to kiss him. Something had changed in his little sister since the last time he had seen her. She had a different light in her eyes and, beyond the apparent concern about whatever was going on, a joy sprung from inside her to the outside, like an aura of light that surrounded her. Jarrod couldn't help a feeling of loss. His little sister had unmistakably grown into a woman.

Jarrod's eyes laid on Nick. His younger brother was pouring himself a drink and didn't turn when Jarrod made his entrance into the room but, by his rigid stance, Jarrod could say something was definitely wrong.

"Will someone tell me what's going on?" he demanded. At this point, he was beyond concerned.

Just then Nick turned, a glass in his hand, a paper in his other hand. Jarrod flinched at the sight of his brother's haggard look, the dark circles under his eyes and his unshaven cheeks.

"Have a look yourself," Nick said curtly, handing the paper to Jarrod.


	17. Chapter 17

As soon as Jarrod's eyes laid on the piece of paper Nick had handed him, he knew what it was, the article Peter Doolin had written when their father had been shot to death, four years before. He didn't need to read it, he knew it word by word.

His father's face, so uncharacteristically serious, almost sad, looked back at him from the article picture eliciting waves of rough emotions and unpleasant memories. Jarrod's mouth instantly turned downward, his typical expression of when he was very worried and lost in deep thought. For a fleeting yet very intense moment, he was hauled back in time, to the day the Barkleys were suddenly deprived of their beloved husband and father, of the man who had given them guidance, advice, and support under any circumstance, the unwavering rock they all clung to.

They had thought Tom Barkley was invincible, that he was immortal. That day they faced an all different reality and learned the hard way how very human Tom Barkley really was. Their family, their certainties, their very lives fell apart in one fatal moment, and the ordeal they endured left them lost and broken-hearted. But, in time, they had been able to build on that loss, learning to lean on one another and tightening their iron bonds. _The Barkleys stick together_ , he heard his father's deep warm voice, so much like his own, say.

Then, Jarrod's eyes shifted on the handwritten words, and his eyebrows plunged into a frown. He raised his eyes and gazed at his silent family. Victoria was sitting in her favorite armchair, her eyes downcast, her hands holding onto the armrests tightly. Audra's china-blue eyes were open wide, glossy and staring at him, like he had all the answers. Finally, Jarrod's eyes stopped on Nick, who in the meantime had taken his usual stance standing by the fireplace, a hand on the mantel, his eyes staring at the amber liquid in the glass he was holding in his other hand..

"What is this and where did it come from?" Jarrod inquired, referring to the paper clipping he still held in his hands.

Nick gulped down his whiskey, laid the empty glass on the mantel and turned toward his brother. "Sabrina," he just said, like if his wife's name alone could explain the whole situation.

"Sabrina? Would you care to elaborate, Nick?" Jarrod questioned impatiently, an eyebrow quizzically raised.

Nick sighed and blinked repeatedly. "The paper clipping was in Sabrina's hands. I assume Thomson gave it to her." He explained.

"Alright. What does Sabrina have to do with Thomson, and where is she now?" Jarrod pressed, as he visualized in his mind the kind face of the young man, the new ranch hand his brother held in so high esteem.

"She's in her room. She's been there for two days, since all this happened, and won't come out," Audra chimed in worriedly.

"What she has to do with Thomson is a mystery, my dear brother," Nick added bitterly. "She went out last night while we were sleeping. To meet him, I must assume." Nick said disgustedly. "She wouldn't tell us. She just threw that paper clipping at us."

Jarrod's eyes went back to the handwritten lines.

 _My dearest Heath, I honored my promise. Now you know who your father was. I love you, my son. Leah Thomson._

 _Does this mean…_ Jarrod quickly dismissed the pesky thought. For the moment. "Where is Thomson, now?" he inquired.

"Gone. Disappeared into thin air. Without a word. He didn't even collect his pay," Nick informed, beginning to pace up and down the room.

"Lloyd told me his former boss, Turk, hired him, and that they left that very morning," Audra added. Jarrod had been wanting to ask his sister about her beau, but he decided, right then and there, to procrastinate the matter indefinitely.

Nick stopped his pacing to point his finger at his brother. "I tell you, Jarrod, it is clear the two of them are up to something. Blackmail us, most likely. What a fool I was! I trusted that boy. I trusted my wife, damn it!" Nick cursed, slapping his thigh as to underline his point.

"Nick, that'll be enough," Jarrod rebuked, his eyes eloquently turning toward their mother, who didn't even raise her white-haired head.

"Oh, Nick, you don't think that Heath and Sabrina…?" Audra's voice trailed off as she saw the sufferance etched on her brother's face.

But it was too late, and Nick answered her question. "She had something that belongs to him and he's gone. Put two and two together, little sister," he said in a more subdued tone than she expected.

"Oh, no, Nick, you're wrong. Heath is the kindest…" Audra defended, but Jarrod raised his hand to silence her. He had heard enough from his siblings. There was only one person he wanted to listen to, because the questions crowding his mind right now weren't about what had happened between Sabrina and Thomson, they were about what had happened between his father and Thomson's mother.

Victoria raised her head to meet Jarrod's concerned blue eyes. "Mother?" He was sure his mother knew perfectly what he was thinking and what his unspoken question was all about.

Victoria remained silent, but her expressive eyes filled up with tears, and Jarrod knew the answer was "yes".

Jarrod nodded. His pragmatic lawyer's brain began to work, sifting through facts, discarding hypotheses, making connections. His head spun as he examined the possible consequences. That man, Heath Thomson, could be his brother.

"Oh, no, Jarrod, not you, too!" Nick burst out. "You don't buy that story, do you? " He pleaded shaking his head in frustration, pointing his finger to the paper clipping Jarrod was still holding.

Jarrod didn't reply, still searching for answers in the depth of his mother's eyes. "Come on, Pappy, come to your senses!" Nick insisted. He turned his head toward his sister. "Audra?" he asked, but all he obtained was a quizzical shake of the blonde head.

"What's the matter with you all, are you out of your minds?" he shouted.

Exasperated, Jarrod got to his feet and faced his brother. "Hush up Nick, let me think!" He snapped.

Audra rushed to her mother's side, a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, you two," she cried. "Can't you see how hard this is on Mother?" she reproached.

Suddenly, Victoria rose from her chair. "Stop it now, all of you," she shouted with firmness, but with such underlying anguish that her children winced. She closed her eyes for a moment. Then, she spoke calmly, staring blankly into space.

"He was an imperfect man, my husband... your father… and in so many ways that could hurt. But he never destroyed, only built and gave life. And then, one day, he made a terrible, wretched mistake, he died... before anyone really understood."

She paused and shifted her eyes first on Jarrod, then on Nick, finally on Audra and then back on Jarrod. "If that young man – Heath Thomson - were my son, I would say to him, 'Be proud, because any son of my husband has a right to be proud.. Live as he would live, fight as he would fight, and no one… no one! Can deny you his birthright." She gazed Nick intensely as she stressed these words.

Then, she lowered her eyes and spoke again, her voice now feeble, choked by the tears that were fighting their way outside her eyes. "That's what I would say to him... if he were my son."

In the astonished silence that followed, they all helplessly watched as the strongest woman they knew collapsed back into her chair, sunk her face into her hands, and began to softly sob.

Jarrod kneeled in front of her, reached out his hand and lifted her chin, searched into her sad, watery eyes. "Mother, I know you made it clear, but I have to ask again, are you sure?"

Victoria solemnly nodded her head.

 _So, it is true. Heath Thomson is father's son. He is… He is…_

"…my brother," he murmured out loud.

Jarrod's heart trembled at his own inadvertently spoken words.

\- 1 -


End file.
